Your End is Nigh
by Cornelius Sigan
Summary: When a star crashes down to the ground, strange, unexplainable events grip Camelot, and the Kingdom descends into terror. People are going missing without any explanation, and a dark new enemy threatens friend and foe alike. Set after Season 3. No slash.
1. Prologue

Will this ever end? No, not really.

After four years of cleaning up after the untidiest man in Camelot – No, make that Albion - , Merlin thought he would have become accustomed to the never-ending mundane tasks. How wrong he was. In his first year or so, he firmly believed that mucking out the stables was the worst job of them all. After a little more experience, however, Merlin quickly discovered that emptying the chamber pot after a rough night was far worse. Urgh... disgusting!

Merlin's face screwed up at the thought of it. If Arthur was a princess – wow, now that was an odd thought -, he'd be collecting flowers instead, or gossiping, or whatever noblewomen do these days. But no! All poor Merlin got was a bucketful of puke just because the pampered prince couldn't take his drink! His manservant could probably beat him on a drinking contest... actually, on second thoughts, no, he wouldn't. Last time Merlin had drunk the consequences had been dire; a very late morning, and stable duty, every day of the week!

At the moment Merlin was polishing Arthur's sword, which wasn't that bad, but it was getting a bit late. The mid-spring sun was waving goodbye to him, only half of it visible because of the high walls of the citadel. Its orange light bathed the courtyard, the guard's steel spears and helmets glinting brightly. It had been a month since the hectic and heart-in-the-mouth times when Morgana's short-lived but terrible reign had been ended. It had only recently struck him that the Cup of Life had never been found in the wreckage of the throne room. The idea that Morgause had been revived by Morgana was enough to make Merlin gulp. When would those two be finally defeated? Would they ever be ultimately vanquished?

There had been no time to talk to the Dragon since; there had been no real need to, either. Everything was strangely peaceful, almost surreal. There had been no talk of trouble; no mythical, rampaging creatures, no roguish bandits, or vengeful sorcerers. This had been the one time during Merlin's stay in Camelot where the place seemed to be untroubled for quite some time. If only he could get time off from his other job too, but Merlin could imagine the look on Arthur's face if he asked for a day off.

Merlin jumped when the door to Arthur's chambers was swung wide open, and Sir Gwaine stepped in.

"Merlin, Arthur wants you to meet him on the battlements."

"Why on earth would he want to do that?"

"I don't know; perhaps he's planning a romantic sunset date with you?" Gwaine teased. Merlin frowned funnily.

"What, on the battlements? Are you sure he's not going to throw me over because he got covered in horse muck the other day?"

"That was an accident, wasn't it? ... Was it?"

"Yeah, of course it was," Merlin looked the other way and put Arthur's sword down, suppressing a devilish grin. Strictly speaking, that had been an accident... sort of. Arthur kind of walked into it, well he actually fell face first into it, but the point was Merlin was completely blameless for this. The young warlock left the chambers hastily before Gwaine could catch up with him and mock him on how Arthur had once said Merlin was quite clever... after half a barrel of mead.

The castle corridors were empty at this time of day, most of the nobles having retired to their chambers and the guard's at their stations. This castle was now saturated with countless memories, back to a time when Merlin and Morgana were friends, when he and Arthur weren't, and to the times when he had never known his father, or found love. He rarely admitted it to himself, but Merlin had come a long way since arriving here.

Reaching the thin, rickety spiral staircase that led to the lofty battlements, Merlin quickly realised that Arthur enjoyed mocking his manservant when he was out of breath, and that was exactly what he would be by the time he reached the top. For not one second Merlin thought this could be a deep, meaningful conversation, or any form of conversation for that matter.

Merlin swung the heavy oak door open, wheezing for air, as he bent over and took a breather. He was on the Eastern battlements, which overlooked the former threat of Cenred's kingdom. Word had reached Camelot that the King had been killed, and many saw this as a perfect opportunity to extend the Kingdom's power in Albion. Even Merlin considered it would be a great start for Arthur in fulfilling his destiny to unite all the lands together. Yet the Prince had been cautious, and had opted against taking the land. King Uther was still recovering from the shock of Morgana, and who could blame him for the atrocities she had carried out on the citizens of Camelot? Arthur had stated to Merlin that he didn't want to make any rash or extreme decisions during his temporary rule.

Arthur was waiting for him, his back golden from the western descent of the sun. He had a troubled look on his face, and that didn't normally bode well for Merlin.

"Sire, you summoned me?"

Arthur nodded, still not taking his eyes away from the horizon "Do you think I was wrong?"

"Sire, what do you mean?" Merlin was confused by Arthur's distant tone.

"Do you think the people consider me a coward for not capturing Cenred's kingdom?"

Merlin was completely taken aback. He hadn't expected this at all!

"Wouldn't you be better off asking your knights?"

"Merlin, you know I value your opinion," Arthur said seriously, while Merlin rolled his eyes "even if I don't take it seriously all the time."

"Well, I would say no. You have a great destiny Arthur, but for now it is best to play it safe until your father fully recovers. Invading a foreign land would waste resources and claim lives, while leaving Camelot exposed to attack. You made the right choice."

Arthur shook his head "You know, Merlin, you are a complete and utter idiot; you are! Yet sometimes, just for a few moments... you actually come out with something that makes sense!"

"You make that sound like its odd," Merlin replied coolly.

"That's because it is!" Arthur laughed, but he quickly turned serious again.

For a moment or two they stood there in silence, watching over the great city below them, still full of life and noise, but most had gone into their homes, or the taverns, and had called it a day. Columns of thin, wispy smoke rose up to the sky, illuminated by the setting sun. A few revellers were stumbling down the main street, singing and complaining noisily as guard's grabbed them. It was a fairly quiet evening, which was quite uncommon here. It might have been why Arthur had taken the opportunity to speak here.

"I wonder about Morgause as well, and Morgana." Arthur injected lethal venom into his voice for both names, surprisingly more for the latter of the two.

"Where do you think they are?" Arthur asked Merlin like he was expecting several different answers.

"Plotting no doubt, while smirking over a bubbling cauldron of nasty stuff." Despite it being a joke, Merlin thought it highly likely.

A smile found a way on Arthur's lips, but he cut it out by smacking them.

"Do you think they might take Cenred's Kingdom for themselves?"

Merlin shook his head confidently "No, Morgause won't be able to walk into that place without everyone trying to kill her. All those immortal men we killed... they had wives and children. She will be blamed for it as it was her who enchanted that cup."

Arthur seemed reassured "Then who _will_ take it?"

"It's not too late," Merlin whispered "if you feel like you're up to it."

Arthur looked exceptionally tempted "What if I were to fail? My father would be ashamed."

"And if you were to succeed? Anyone could take it as it is now; all the warriors were killed when the cup of life was emptied of their blood. It's a kingdom full of orphans and widows. Someone is bound to take this golden opportunity at some point."

"I will consult with father," Arthur said resolutely, finalising that conversation "and see what he thinks on the matter."

"You don't agree with him much anyway."

"He is the King."

Merlin didn't like arguing with Arthur; it normally involved extra back-breaking chores as a consequence. The only times he intervened was when the Kingdom was in danger, and right now it wasn't, so Merlin kept his mouth shut. Yet, of course, he couldn't forever.

"Morgana could always take it; they have no quarrel with her, and she has royal blood."

The name seemed to hurt Arthur and he leaned against the battlement walls, gazing into the horizon.

"Why did she do it, Merlin, why?" Emotional pain was etched on Arthur's face. "She was like a sister to me. Yes, we bickered and argued but that was as worst as it got, and then suddenly she is trying to kill me? Has she gone insane, or was she enchanted?"

Merlin saw the danger and put his foot down it "No, there's no way she could have done the things she did had she been enchanted. Morgana was my friend to, but it was her choice to distance herself from us. We were always there for here; she can't throw the blame on us. She made the wrong decision in siding with Morgause, and we will make sure they both pay for what they did to your people."

Arthur nodded grimly and Merlin joined in, determined to keep any idea of pardoning Morgana out of the window. Merlin had been prepared to forgive her in the past, but not for her latest crimes. The battle for Camelot may have been won, but the battle for Morgana's soul had been well and truly lost.

The sun made its farewells to the people of Camelot and disappeared over the horizon, a temporary, fleeting moment of twilight striking the Kingdom. The purple skies signalled the time for the watchtower's huge braziers to be lit and soon enough a never-ending trail of embers rose up into the darkness, fading as quickly as they had sparked. The stars gleamed above them, a complex connection of tiny, distant lights twinkling down softly. A soft, cool, tickling wind stroked the side of Merlin's neck, and his deep blue eyes gazed contentedly out at the Kingdom he and Arthur had helped grow strong. Looking down, he watched the criss-cross network of the streets of Camelot be bathed in torchlight as the city lit up spectacularly. Now that there was no point in hiding anything, Merlin had pointed out to Arthur that he had spotted Morgana leaving the castle in the dark recesses of the night, on several occasions, in _brightly_ coloured cloaks. The Prince had blushed at this and had ordered half of the guard to return their wages. Absolutely no one was permitted to leave the city at night, save Uther and Arthur. The watch at the main towers had not been doubled, but tripled. Security had been tightened, but the damage had been done. It was too late to hinder Morgana's plans to meet with Morgause. Hopefully, however, it would prevent any future developments which could compromise Camelot and its wellbeing.

Twilight departed, and darkness followed. The stars shone even more intensely, and Merlin would have gladly stayed here for longer, but Arthur had other ideas.

"We should go." Merlin nodded reluctantly and went to follow his Prince.

Suddenly, without warning, both of them stopped right in their tracks, without even meaning to stop. Merlin's head spun back out to the sky, and his jaw dropped. There was a shooting star!

"Look, Arthur," Merlin's face lit up with a bright smile "a shooting star! Make a wish."

It was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes "Honestly, Merlin, you are a bit superstitious, but I suppose that's just an occupational hazard if you live with Gaius."

"They both laughed openly and made their wishes. Merlin wished for a bright future for Camelot, and for Morgause and Morgana never to threaten this Kingdom again. He wondered about what Arthur was wishing for, but he'd bet his life that it involved Gwen... Hold on.

Merlin's grin vanished and it was replaced with curiosity. He swore that shooting stars travelled in a fairly straight line; this one was going sharply downwards. Wait a minute...

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted to get the Prince's attention. "Look!"

Behind them, to the west, the star was falling rapidly, flames surrounding its surface. It was like watching a small fireball fall down an enormous, pitch black cavern. However, this was far from small... wait, it was _absolutely enormous_!

At this rate, it would directly hit Camelot, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. Arthur's face was transfixed with horror, as was Merlin's. The people hadn't seemed to have noticed yet, as no screams could be heard. They probably couldn't see it; Merlin and Arthur had only been fortunate enough to see it coming due to their lofty view.

There had been many times when had felt like his heart had clawed its way up to his mouth, but this time it felt as it had barged into his head. Surely Morgause and Morgana couldn't be behind this? No, he knew for a fact that Morgause was exceptionally gifted, but this... there was no way any sorcerer could do this. It looked twice the size of the Camelot! It was nearing, and for a moment it seemed luck was finally on their side and it would crash just short of the city. Without warning, however, the fallen star sharply lifted up, and travelled in a fairly horizontal direction before flying right over their heads. Merlin and Arthur both instinctively ducked as their ear drums were beaten viciously by the deafening noise, and their eyes were blinded by the strong blue light. Having barely lifted himself back up, Merlin's eyes froze in horror as the star hit the ground and exploded magnificently. The force of the explosion knocked him backwards and over the battlements!

"ARGHHHH!"

Arthur grabbed his hand just in time, and the Princes' face was contorted with concentration as another tremor nearly sent him over the edge too. A chorus of deafening bangs and flashing lights hit Camelot spectacularly, like a spectacle of shock and awe. Anyone planning on sleeping deeply tonight had just received a rude awakening.

"Hold on, you idiot!" He shouted, as Merlin nearly lost his grip. Slowly, but surely, the warlock was lifted back up onto the battlements, before Arthur finally pulled him over. They crashed to the floor, both breathing heavily. Arthur jumped up desperately, and Merlin followed suite, dusting off his coat as his hands shook uncontrollably. The sight before him was literally jaw dropping.

Several miles from the city, an enormous, shapeless inferno of blue flames raged and burned intensely, the fire reaching almost a league high into the sky, and at least ten leagues across. It was _massive_. Merlin and Arthur were struggling to take it in when part of the star exploded, spits of isolated fire dispersing over the plains. The two friends looked at each other, both with their mouths slightly open in the illuminated night.

"A star doesn't burn blue flames," Merlin said hoarsely, his voice croaky and not his own.

"A star doesn't suddenly change direction as it's about to hit a city," Arthur replied, also as if he was miles away.

Their eyes met, both wide and full of shock. Realisation hit Merlin's face.

"It's not a star!"

"Merlin, get the horses! Now!"


	2. Signs of Doom

**Ok guys, I think this should come up as an Author note, if not then I'm sorry lol. I'm still getting used to this thing...**

**Thanks for all the reviews on my first ever chapter and fic on here; I'm really thankful for your comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the first. Please review, but most importantly, enjoy! :-)**

Camelot had descended into absolute chaos. The entire city was now awake after what had felt like an earthquake. There had never been an earthquake in Camelot before. Most of the people had walked outside of their homes, only to realise that it had not been an earthquake at all.

A relentless, flowing blue ball of an inferno dominated the horizon, illuminating the city in its terrible light. Screams seemed to be ten times louder than usual and an overall sense of awe was felt throughout Camelot. People stood, side by side, staring at flames with their mouths open. None of them had ever seen anything like this before.

Even in the high walled courtyard, sight of the blue fire could still be seen. Gaurds rushed here and there, collecting buckets of water in a vain attempt to see if the fire could be put out. Near the main entrance, the knights were fully dressed and prepared, swords at their side in case this was some kind of trap.

Arthur joined them, dressed in full chain mail, and trying his best not to show the nerves that were gripping him. Merlin was at his side, and his servant helped him up onto his horse. The Prince eyed the knights surrounding him, noticing Sir Leon, Sir Lancelot, Sir Gwaine, and Sir Elyan among them. Above the rising noise of roaring flames and barked orders, Arthur addressed his knights.

"Let's go and find out what this thing is. If you have any fears and doubts, keep them to yourselves. Our people look up to us in times like this, so show no fear, and be an inspiration to them."

They all nodded grimly, their red capes looking more like sky blue in the light. All were helmeted, and Arthur could only see their determined eyes, but he knew he could trust each and every one of them with his life, even the one with the silly scarf and big ears... although he would never admit that, of course.

The noise of hooves hitting stone filled the courtyard as Arthur led the knights out of the citadel. They drawbridge was opened, and a blinding light forced Arthur to recoil. After several seconds of allowing his eyes to get familiar with it, he continued.

The main street was filled with panicked faces; his people had suffered far too much. For ordinary citizens of a city, they had gone through unimaginable horrors, time and time again. Yet they were still here. This was testament to their courage, mental endurance, and sheer determination to stay alive. Arthur was humbled by it, and if they took strength from him, he did the exact opposite too.

By the time they had reached the gates, another massive explosion shook the ground and Arthur nearly fell off his horse, and one of his knights actually did. What looked like huge sparks were emitting from one end of the star, and on the other side the fire had died down a little, but only by a barely noticeable portion. The main gates were swung open, the heavy oak doors groaning like an old man with aches. A wave of intensifying heat hit Arthur full on the face and he quickly grabbed the canteen of water at the side of his saddle, splashing half of it over his face. His Knights followed suite, deciding it best to leave the helmets behind. Now soaking with water which was already beginning to warm on his face, Arthur kicked in his stirrups and urged his warhorse out onto the open plains.

In normal circumstances, galloping at full speed would have cooled Arthur down, but here it was making no difference at all. If anything, it was getting worse. He passed the churned up earth at a blurring speed, until he had reached the point where going any further would result in him being burnt alive, and this was still over a league away from the star! The ground here had been completely changed. Its surface was charred and smoking. Surrounding Arthur were cooling lumps of rock, but instead of cracks of orange all over them, they were blue instead.

The others joined in, and his manservant and friend decided to make a blindingly obvious point "Wow, its hot!"

"Well done, genius!" Arthur had to shout over the roaring inferno, and, seeing this as an opportune moment, he emptied the rest of his water gourd all over Merlin.

He spluttered and simply stared at Arthur "Ermm... thanks!"

"You should be!" Arthur turned his attention back up to the star, and despite still being some distance away, he still had to crane his neck to see the top. This thing was even bigger than he had initially thought! It was that big, if Uther had ever decided to set up a defensive wall protecting Camelot from Cenred's kingdom, it would have been completely dwarfed by this, even across. Even if Arthur did go to take the free Kingdom, he would have to travel an extra five leagues to in order bypass... this thing. Whatever it was, it would stay here for an eternity; a constant reminder to all in Camelot that even the stars are not immortal.

The ground before it had been forcibly scraped, so that the land before him now was at a gentle decline before reaching what looked like a newly defined cliff face. Arthur would have to make sure that after the star had burnt up, the area would be walled so that innocent, curious travellers or cattle wouldn't fall down there.

"Sire, we should wait till it burns up, and then we perhaps we could get a little bit closer?" Sir Leon spoke up, and having been in silent awe, Arthur shook out of it, and nodded firmly.

"Back to the city! We'll ride out at first dawn and see if there's any change!"

On their way back, Merlin somehow caught up with Arthur and nodded his head in thanks.

"Actually, sire, I'm quite thankful for what you did before."

"Good, because you do come out with some complete non-"Arthur's sentence was cut short as his face was drenched for a second time; this time from the water from Merlin's gourd. The Prince just stared back at his servant with an '_I could kill you right now but I need you to clean my chambers_' look. Perhaps he'd just have to find something really horrible for Merlin to do – it was a shame there was no feast tonight.

_50 Leagues to the West_

_A light falls from the sky. People were screaming in terror. Camelot was bathed in blue light. Flames reached unbelievable heights. Arthur, Merlin and his knights made their way towards the inferno, but couldn't get any closer. They turned back, but something was watching them-_

Morgana gasped, as she always did after such an intense dream. Leaning up from her bed, her eyes widened as she noticed that her enchanted bracelet was still on her wrist. This meant that what she had just seen was more than just a dream; it was a vision. It was going to happen. Yet this was good; Camelot was under attack, the people were suffering, and her enemies were weakening. This could only be good for Morgana. She smirked openly, but thought it would be best to consult with Morgause; she would know what do next. She was only alive today because of her sister, and recently Morgana had saved her sister's life, returning the favour, with help from the Cup of Life. Without each other, they would both be dead. That fact brought them even closer together.

Eyes flashing gold, Morgana's palm opened, green flames lit in her hand, and showed her the way out of her dark chambers. Morgause's palace had waved farewell to its glory days long ago; the place was crumbling and rotting, but this did not matter. It was hidden and protected by powerful enchantments, and this kept the sisters safe from anyone who could mean them harm. Nothing could enter without Morgause lifting the spell, except for the two of them, which the enchantment seemed to recognise now. Even the surrounding area was placed with numerous spells, making innocent travellers turn back in the opposite direction, without them even realising anything. In short, this was the perfect place to draft the next plot to bring down Camelot.

She reached the door to Morgause's chamber, and knocked softly "Sister?"

"Come in." The reply was short and curt, but lacking its usual harsh tone. Morgana was thankful, to say the least.

Morgause's chambers were far grander than her own, but Morgana found no reason to complain. She was surprised to find her sister outside, overlooking the horizon on the wide stone balcony. The very last rays of sunlight were striking her hair and for a moment Morgause gave out the appearance of being an angel, a halo resting on her head. To Morgana she was. Yet her sister was not her usual confident self, and that never bode well for Morgana.

"Sister, you seem troubled," Morgana embraced the sorceress, the sun finally descending over the horizon as she stepped outside "whatever is the matter?"

Morgause gave her one of those wise smiles "You worry about me too much sister."

"However, there has been something that has been troubling me these recent weeks. I think I can remember the man who nearly killed me."

Morgana nodded encouragingly "Yes, who was it?"

Morgause shook her head "No, before I make any judgement we must first find a way to infiltrate Camelot, and take down Uther. Only then will I focus on my personal vengeance."

"Yet surely whoever this person is, they could pose a great threat to our plans. If we were to kill this person first, finishing Uther may be much easier. The reason all of our past attempts have failed may be because of this... magician." Morgana spat out the last word; whoever it was did not deserve such a title.

Morgause closed her eyes, deep in thought "Perhaps you are right... very well. However, you must promise not to kill this person yourself; he is mine." A wicked grin crept across her beautiful face.

"I promise, sister."

Morgause opened her eyes, her gaze burning into the starry night sky "He was a Knight of Camelot. I don't know his name but he was the only one who could have sent that spell in my direction. We must go to Camelot, and root him out... somehow."

"Surely a few hours rest will bring some new idea to your head in the morning?" Morgana asked gently.

"Yes, but I sense you came here for a reason, sister, not just to check up on me. Your eyes are tired; what is it that troubles you?"

Morgana had been hoping not for this subject to come up, after such an inspiring return of memory from Morgause.

"I had a dream," Morgana said with uncertainty "even with the bracelet on! It must be a prophecy! Yet it bodes well for us, sister! Camelot is being purged, in blue fire!" A more certain smile filled Morgana's features.

"Blue fire," Morgause mused, her eyes narrowing "...interesting. Was it in the distant future, or did it seem close by?"

Morgana shrugged, unsure "I saw Arthur, and he didn't look much older than when we last saw him. So it can't be too far away."

"Do you think we could have been behind it?" Morgause asked; her deep brown eyes bright with excitement.

Morgana was about to answer, but before she could, an unusual noise reached her ears. Morgause seemed to notice it too, and both of them frowned to each other. However, the source of the noise revealed itself and sisters both looked up, gasping. A huge, burning star was travelling at a phenomenal speed above their very heads! It was arcing downwards, and it looked like it was going to crash far to the east. Morgana knew what was in that direction; Camelot! She was aware she smirked a lot but she couldn't deny herself this one pleasure when all of her enemies were about to be killed by a stroke of incredible luck. The sisters watched the progress of the fallen star closely until it disappeared just over the horizon. As it did, however, a huge column of blue fire exploded upwards into the sky, lighting up the palace, even from this distance.

Several seconds later, a few weak tremors reached them. Morgana looked to her sister, triumphant.

"Camelot is no more!"

Morgana embraced her sister, hugging her tightly as victory was finally theirs, and she thanked the stars for their intervention. However, her smile vanished and was replaced with fear as a small blue light rose from the ground towards them, just a speck at first, but growing larger in size. It had emerged from where the star had crashed. It tore through Morgause's powerful enchantments with ease and continued unhindered. Morgana's heart nearly popped out of her mouth when it looked like this second, smaller star was going to hit the palace. Thankfully it missed the tallest tower by mere metres, the noise coming from it both deafening and strange. A huge bang popped Morgana's ears, and her vision turned blurry. Morgause was shouting something to her, but Morgana couldn't hear her, and she passed out, the world turning to blackness.

_Camelot_

"All I'm saying, sire, is that a good night's sleep will help you be better prepared for tomorrow!"

This had been going on for some time now. Merlin had tried, and tried again, to convince Arthur that staying up all night worrying wasn't going to help anyone, especially himself. Arthur had simply replied 'How are you supposed to fall asleep after what has just happened!' Admittedly, Merlin had struggled to find a reply to that one. Still though, he didn't give up that easily.

"I just can't go to sleep! Even if I want to – which I do! – how am I supposed to? It's like... I don't know; it's like leaving a feast halfway through for no reason whatsoever. It's just... impossible!"

"Oh," Merlin replied unhelpfully. He didn't really know what it was like to enjoy a feast. All he did was carry heavy trays of cups of wine around.

Merlin shrugged "Well, what would you have me do; Gaius drug you to sleep!"

"Yes," Arthur replied dully, and Merlin took a step back.

"That was meant to be a joke, sire."

Arthur cringed awkwardly "Ah." Merlin watched him look around the room pointlessly, pace a little and begin speaking to himself.

"I know what I'll do... I'll... I'll... I'll go and... Go and check on Gwen! I need to see if she's ok!" Arthur bolted out of the door, and Merlin was left there, eyes wide, hearing echoes of several doors open and slam shut. His eyes were still wide.

"I've never seen him run so fast in my life," Merlin muttered to himself, closing the thick red curtains and blocking out the now irritating reflection of blue fire. He scanned Arthur's chambers, and satisfied they were tidy enough; he left and silently shut the door behind him, the latch clicking softly. There you go Arthur, that's how _non_-prats shut doors.

Merlin had plenty of experience walking the corridors of Camelot at night, both sneaking and strolling, but this night had a strange feel to it. Blue light flooded through every window, the reflection of the flames dancing on the whitewashed walls of the castle corridors. There was that distant, deep, resonant sound as well; like he was in an enormous cavern. Merlin knew it was just the muffled sound of roaring flames, but it felt like his head was being tapped by a hammer. It wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling and the warlock decided he should go to bed. Gaius would probably tell him off for not cooking dinner or something like that. Merlin hoped that the physician's mind would be focused on this fallen star, although he firmly believed it wasn't a star at all. Whatever it was, however, he was determined to find out, as soon as the flames receded and revealed what was beneath that fiery surface.

The door to Gaius' workroom and chambers was wide open, and Merlin poked his head round the corner, intrigued, because Gaius always closed the door.

Gaius wasn't here; he was probably checking on the new phenomenon outside. If anyone had the knowledge in Camelot to know what it was, it was Gaius. Merlin looked up to the high stacked shelves of books, scrolls and odd bits of parchment. Most of it was the physician's scientific work and studies, but in here was a treasure trove of magical knowledge. Surely, somewhere in here was a mention of a falling star, and what the repercussions would mean for Camelot.

Merlin crashed into the nearest seat, which was a small, rickety stool, and dunked his head into a large bowl of water. The cold water was unbelievably refreshing and he just stayed there for a while, head submerged, and thought about what Gaius might have to say. Could it be an ancient spell that can only be carried out once in a thousand years? Or was it a prophetic warning that Camelot would be retaken by enemies? Was Camelot in great peril? Of course it was; when was it ever not?

Merlin's head was abruptly pulled out of the water, and he opened his eyes drowsily. Gaius was there, still holding the back of Merlin's head, with a frown on his aged face.

"Whatever is the matter, Merlin?"

"I got too close to... well, whatever it is," Merlin replied, his face burning over.

Gaius turned away from him and opened one of the several drawers next to his shelf of potions. The physician was humming to himself absent-mindedly when he returned to Merlin's side with some thick, funny looking leaves. With it was a small bottle with an exotic stopper.

"Here you go; it's called Aloe Vera. Rub the gel over your face and it should cool your skin down significantly."

"Thanks." Merlin dabbed some of clear liquid over his cheeks, and it felt like he had just slept on a slab of ice. His bright red cheeks extended as he grinned from the pleasant feeling.

"Try not to use it all; it costs 40 gold pieces a bottle."

Merlin was much more careful after that. When he finished he carefully placed the ornate silver stopper on the lid, and the warlock turned his attention back to Gaius.

"Have you got any idea what it is, then?"

Gaius rose up quite quickly for his old self and he proceeded to bolt the door. Merlin frowned; if Gaius was locking the door, this must be of serious importance, and secrecy. The physician hastily returned to the table, and pulled his chair closer, whispering to Merlin.

"A falling star can be seen in many ways. Some believe it is when the gods are displeased, but it is actually a warning of destruction and great upheaval. Yet it could also be more than just a sign."

"What do you mean?" Merlin was always eager to learn from Gaius; anything to strengthen his skills and continue protecting Arthur.

"The last time a star fell from the sky, it crashed into the lake where The Isle of the Blessed is. The island itself is built on the top of rock, its surface barely above the waterline."

Merlin gawped "Are you saying the centre of the Old Religion has been built on top of a dead star?"

Gaius nodded "It would seem so. I only know this because a long, long time ago, Nimueh and I were close friends. Before the Great Purge she told me of a time when magic was unorganised and leaderless, and nearly everyone possessed the gift. One night they saw a light fall from the darkness, and, inspired, they followed it. It led them to the lake where, apparently, blue fire was burning high into the sky, the water from the lake unable to extinguish it. When the star eventually burnt out, they crafted boats to cross the lake, but heavy mists prevented them from doing so. Many people disappeared into that fog, and were never seen again. Eventually, they reached the new island, and named it 'The Isle of Blessed' because they felt they had been given divine guidance to reach the island unharmed, and soon after the first High Priestess was named."

"Is there anything else?" Merlin was desperate for answers. "How did those people disappear? Where did they go?"

Gaius shrugged helplessly. "No one knows; not even Nimueh could answer the very question you just asked me. All I know is that the island heightens the power of anyone there; a sorcerer is twice as dangerous there than anywhere else."

Merlin was left shocked by what he had heard. There was a connection with these two stars; they both released blue fire. Yet something in his head, despite having never seen another star close up before, insisted that it wasn't. So what on earth was it?

"Could Camelot be turned into a new centre of magical power? This could be an attack from Morgana and Morgause!"

"Merlin, I do not doubt the sisters' power, but it would greatly surprise me if the great Cornelius Sigan himself would have been able to bring a distant star crashing to the ground."

"All we can do now is wait till it burns out, and take a closer inspection when it does. For now, Merlin, I suggest you get some sleep. You'll feel much better for it."

Merlin nodded resignedly and retreated to his room, stifling a yawn and falling into his bed. His thin curtain was unable to block out the light, and Merlin's eyes closed, the fire of foretelling doom dancing in front of his motionless face.

_In the City_

Arthur waited nervously at Gwen's door. He'd knocked over four times now and the less civil half of him wanted to kick down the door and see if she was okay. The calmer part of him, however, reminded him the breaking a door down just after midnight might not be seen as Princely behaviour. By this time most of the people had retired to their homes, but some wanted to live out the night and watch from the Knight's training ground, telling this tale to their grandchildren years in the future. The crackling, roaring blaze was beginning to show signs of subsiding, the flames no longer reaching as high as they had been when the huge rock had crashed. His father, the King, had asked Gaius for an explanation, certain that magic must be behind it. Gaius had insisted the contrary, stating that this was beyond a magical feat; it was merely a fallen rock from the sky. Uther hadn't looked convinced, but for now he had stopped asking questions. Arthur hated it when his father was on edge.

"Gwen!" Arthur knocked again, although it was more like a punch. He cradled his bruised hand, cursing. Where on earth could she have gone to?

"What sort of time do you think this- ... Oh, Arthur!" Gwen sounded genuinely surprised to see him. How odd.

"Guinevere, are you all right?" Arthur asked, desperate for a positive answer.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Arthur's lower jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

Gwen's eyes were filled with concern. "Arthur, what's wrong?"

"Did... were you asleep?" Arthur could barely comprehend sleeping through an explosion that nearly threw him off the battlements.

"Why, yes! That's the reason I was a bit... short with you, before I realised it was you, of course!" Gwen looked to the ground, her warm brown eyes filled with concern.

Arthur nodded, still in a state of shock. "That's fine... but... but you were asleep?"

"Yes! Why, what's happened?"

"Oh, nothing." Arthur went to go inside but Gwen gently moved him aside. The Prince decided to go inside and explain everything once he was away from that irritating sight. When Gwen returned, he couldn't help but smile as he had predicted the look on her face, right down to the dilated pupils and O-shaped mouth.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Arthur said, taking the words right of Gwen's mouth, and bragging about it as if it was his latest toy.

Gwen nodded, a little lost for words.

"Did I honestly sleep through that?"

"You tell me." Arthur was concerned about Gwen; Morgana's betrayal had hit her as hard as Arthur, but it almost felt like she had seen it coming. He was half-tempted to ask why she didn't tell him, but admittedly the Prince realised if she ever had done, he wouldn't have believed her. He wouldn't have allowed himself to. Inevitably, the subject of his sister, or half-sister – he was certain he knew more than enough – found its way into the conversation.

Gwen rubbed her eyes "I must be a deeper sleeper than I thought! I suppose it's because now I don't have to get up for Morgana-... Oh, I'm sorry Arthur." Her voice was lined with regret; that name struck a rift between them, yet it also brought the two of them together. Out of everyone in Camelot it was the two people in this very house who had been in the closest to the King's Ward. They had known her the most... well; at least they thought they had.

"You don't need to be sorry", Arthur said half-heartedly, eyes on the ground. "I just thought I knew Morgana. We grew up together since I was nine years old. Why would she turn against you, me, and father... against Camelot?"

"Morgause must have manipulated Morgana into believing she was doing the right thing. I know everything I believe in her was all wrong but I know for a fact she wouldn't do something without believing it was right. Morgana must firmly believe what she was and still is doing is right."

Arthur felt nauseous thought of what he had been told yesterday. "Merlin told me that he once overheard Morgana address Morgause as 'sister'. Does that mean I'm related to her as well?"

Gwen sat down next to Arthur, grasping his hand "It doesn't matter who you are related to. Your people are your family, and you'll do anything to protect them! That's what separates you from those two, and it is what will eventually be your cutting edge over them. I know you'll be a Great King one day, and you'll be loved by your people, respected by your allies, and feared by your enemies."

Merlin had his wise moments, but Arthur always found comfort in Gwen's words. Arthur could lose himself in those, warm, deep brown eyes, for what felt like hours on end, wherever it was; opposite ends of the throne room, a corridor glance, or a walk in the courtyard. A couple of years ago he would have laughed at this, but not now. Now he was in love, and that changed everything, for the rest of his life, however long or short it would be.

Arthur kissed Gwen softly, and she kissed him back, smiling at the same time. Whatever threats faced them, they would pull through, together.

_8 Hours Later..._

The Forest of Ascetir was usually a bright and warm place during a spring morning. Today couldn't be any more different. The sun had been blocked by an enormous, thick, grey cloud, which had simply formed over Camelot and had then proceeded to spread out in all directions, covering most of the skyline. The usual chirruping of sweet birdsong had gone, and the bright greenery of the dense flora had gone too, for it was all smothered in grey snow. The ground, leaves, branches and trees were all covered in ash. A fox darted across this alien land, its fur matted with pulverized rock.

The place looked like a scene from a land of gloom and misery; specks of ash were still drifting downwards at a slow-motion pace, hitting the ground soundlessly. Here and there, the underside of a leaf could be seen, revealing a little colour in this terrible place. This had once been a place of sanctuary for druids. Now, after this, it could only be seen as a sanctuary for the dead.

The shepherd continued, unfazed. He had heard talk of a fallen star and he was determined to get a piece home and show it to his kids. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he wasn't going to let it pass by. Being twelve leagues from Camelot meant the shepherd had to dart straight for the city. Many peasants had passed him by several hours ago and they would probably already have their chunk of memorabilia. He was quietly surprised that they hadn't passed him on their return journey.

Soon, the air became thicker, and it was more difficult to breath. The shepherd's head felt heavy and he coughed throatily as a segment of ash found its way into his mouth. That was when he was stopped dead in his tracks.

The forest ahead was completely shrouded is what looked like mist. The thick tree trunks were barely discernable, even ten feet ahead of the shepherd, and anything further was beyond visibility. He didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit. It was... eerie, and disturbing, but at the same time the thought of the star being on the other side invited him in. He wasn't going to let a bit of fog put him off. He stepped into the mist.

As soon as the shepherd did, his breathing worsened, and panic struck straight through his heart. He dropped to the floor, unable to move or breathe. Before his eyes turned into his head, he saw distant figures, and the sound of nearing footsteps. If he had still been able to make some noise, he would have screamed at what he saw next.


	3. Destiny Halted

**Thank you to _Jissai _and_ Haley Renee_ for reviewing the previous chapter. The mystery is thickening, and history is repeating itself. Will Camelot become the new Isle of the Blessed; the new centre of the Old Religion? Enjoy! :-)**

* * *

Merlin groaned both inwardly and outwardly, rubbing his eyes roughly as he leaned up in bed. Wow, he must have overslept; the excitement and near death moment from last night must have tired him out a little. Then again, swinging on the edge of the battlements with only the arm of a prat to hold onto was pretty terrifying.

Merlin then went to make one of the most difficult procedures of his entire life... getting out of bed, knowing that Arthur probably had a various list of jobs to do, and none of them were ever going to pleasant. Yet there was the issue of the fallen star as well, so Merlin might get away with missing a few jobs to inspect the crash site with Arthur. With this in mind, he found the strength to swing out of bed, and open the curtains in his dark room. Hopefully the fire would have put itself out-... what the...

Merlin rubbed at his window with the sleeve of his nightshirt, but nothing changed. He peered out, trying to see what the problem. He couldn't see anything. A filmy white had covered itself over his small window. Something in Merlin urged him to open it, but then the dominant, sensible side to him saw the logic in asking Gaius first.

"Gaius, do you know what's wrong with-"

The physician was nowhere to be seen. Now that was _unusual_. The last time Gaius hadn't been in his workroom when Merlin awoke was nearly a year ago now, when Gaius had been nursing a hangover in a tavern. Strictly speaking, that hadn't even been Gaius.

Frowning, Merlin opened the door, but the corridor ahead was filled with mist. He closed the old door, but the fog found its way through the underside, the keyhole, and other gaps, pouring through like water from a leak in an overflowing pipe. Within seconds, the entire room was shrouded, and Merlin could barely see his hands in front of his face. The air felt heavy and depressing, yet it heightened the warlock's senses and a spell came to mind.

"_Rýmet!" _The mist did not clear, and Merlin tried again, his eyes flashing a pure, elemental gold... no change. His heart jumped into his mouth when he heard the door creak open, the noise long and drawn out, like it was meant to scare him to death. The mist thickened, and Merlin's breathing was constricted, as he wheezed for air. Just as he felt like he was going to pass out, something stroked the back of his shoulder. He turned around-

"ARGH!"

Merlin threw himself out of his true slumber, perspiration coating his smooth cheeks. His hands were shaking like a leaves in a wild storm, and relief washed over him like a tidal wave of cold water when he realised this wasn't the dream, replayed over in his mind. The curtain was a little bit more open, and the door to Gaius' workroom was ajar. Only minor, unimportant differences, but Merlin took great comfort in them. That dream had felt _so_ real it was untrue. He could feel the fog against his skin and the fear in his heart. Nothing could replicate that; not even a dream. Surely...

Merlin took time to get dressed this time, completely unaware of the time. Part of him didn't care if he was late for Arthur; he'd willingly take any punishment thrown at him. His mind was far more focused on the chain of events and bits of information Gaius had given him. Some of it made sense, but other aspects of it were completely baffling. The thought that the Isle of the Blessed, the centre of magical power for The Old Religion, was the surface of a dead star, barely piercing the freezing waterline of an ancient lake, was beyond comprehension. Could this be the gods' doing; punishing Camelot for its cruelty against magic? Gaius had cancelled out this notion, but Merlin wasn't sure. He'd be better off asking the former sorcerer...

Merlin's heart nearly dropped to the floor this time; the physician wasn't there. He gulped noisily as he took note of every single detail in the room; it was the exact same as the dream, if you could even call it that... more like a nightmare in all honesty. He moved to the door, and as he did so the warlock realised with cold dread that every single one of his movements were exactly replicating the ones he had made in the dream. The warlock forcefully stopped himself in front of the door, and dreading what was to come next, his hand reached for the door, half of him battling to keep it away from the latch-

The door burst open and Gaius walked through, nearly knocking into Merlin.

"Merlin, what on earth is wrong with you? Surely you realise that standing in front of a door increases your chances of being bowled over!" Gaius gave the warlock one look and saw the diminishing fear in his eyes. "Merlin, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you alright?"

Merlin shook his head, feeling like he was about to throw up. "No, but I've had a dream. Well, more like a nightmare. It was terrifying."

"Well, you best sit down and tell me all about it."

Merlin relayed the events of his vision to Gaius, the physician nodding every so often.

"That was nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. It is incredible what our fears and worries can do to us, even when we are asleep."

"It felt so real though, Gaius. The fear was so genuine. Are there any spells or curses which can place someone in a state of terror, experiencing their worst fears in a realistic vision?"

"I have never heard of such a spell before. Either way, the mist you speak of has shrouded the entire star, and the King has ordered everyone to seek refuge in the citadel. Then he will seal it till the mysterious mist clears."

Merlin jumped up "We're all in danger! Gaius, I need to get to Arthur-"

"You need to sit down, and calm down. Then we can try and work out how to go about this."

Merlin reluctantly did as Gaius said, and sat down at the main table, where a bowl of porridge was waiting for him. It looked quite good actually; less gruel and more porridge was always a positive sign. He ignored it for now though, and instead tried to keep his eyes away from the windows, from which nothing could be seen through.

"It would seem, Merlin, that someone is attempting to break your mind," Gaius mused, clearing his already empty bowl of porridge. "The question is, though, who would want to do such a thing?"

"Morgana is an obvious culprit, but does she have this sort of power? You could say Morgause could, but would she even bother crafting such a powerful spell on you? She'd much rather inflict it on Uther, or Arthur."

"She did make Uther see terrible hallucinations; we found a mandrake root under his bed, remember?"

Gaius nodded grimly "Yes, but I doubt Morgause would use the same trick twice. She's clever enough to know that there is a reason why all of her attempts in bringing down Camelot have failed. She will begin to realise there is magic, here in Camelot, which is protecting both Uther and Arthur."

"I'm only protecting Uther because he is Arthur's father," Merlin said, making sure Gaius didn't get the wrong impression.

"I know that, Merlin, but think of the repercussions if Uther were to be killed by magic, or a sorcerer? Arthur would seek vengeance just as his father did when Ygraine died. We don't want a second purge on our hands; that's the last thing we'd want."

Something in Merlin's head clicked, when Gaius said the word 'purge'. He looked up to the physician, his eyes misty.

"Perhaps one is coming anyway."

"What could you possible mean?"

"You said that people went missing in the mist, and they never returned. Did any of these people have anything in common?"

"No, not that I know of; I told you everything that Nimueh said to me. They-"Gaius stopped mid-sentence, mouth open in frozen horror.

"What?" Merlin said exasperatedly. "Gaius, what is it?"

"I...I... how did I not realise this before?" Gaius slammed his fists onto the table, causing Merlin to jump.

"That's still much not help to me!"

"Everyone who arrived at the Isle of the Blessed safely all had the gift! They all possessed magic! Not one was ungifted!"

Slowly, but surely, the news hit Merlin in the face. He looked up in shock.

"I need to get to Arthur... preferably now, Gaius!"

* * *

In the weak morning sunrise, Morgause watched over her sister, discontented by how her various spells had resulted in no success. Morgana was sleeping deeply, her chest rising and falling steadily. Even waking her up had proved impossible. The temptation of going to inspect the fallen rock was growing and growing. There was no threat; all it could be was a lump of metal. Morgause could use it to craft new weapons and armour. She could even bring it back to the palace and work on it while Morgana was recovering.

Morgause cast several enchantments of protection around her beloved sister, but also left a note exclaiming where she had gone. The spells were not needed; a huge bubble of magical power surrounded the palace, but Morgause was not going to take any risks, especially how that star had ripped through one of the most powerful pieces of magic she had ever pulled off. It was very unnerving...

Morgause left the palace behind her, draped in her sky blue cloak, the hood protecting her face. Her hair, however, spilled out openly in the sunlight, like golden snakes. Her intense auburn eyes darted across the protected landscape; the events of last night had left Morgause uncertain of her own skills. Yet no one or nothing was in sight, so she walked round the back of the palace, up to the forest covered hill. Tress surrounded her, left to right, like a natural guard of honour, but ahead of her was a long, thin clearing which led up to the base of the sharply inclining hill. A line of mist had settled itself on level terms with the clearing, which would have been quite an eerie effect if it had not been for the strengthening sun. Its light pierced through and lit up each droplet of dew on each blade of grass. The hem of Morgause's cloak was already soaked, but she didn't care; she could always dry it using magic any time she wanted. What was at the helm of her thoughts was a spell strong enough to carry a heavy lump of cooling metal back to the palace.

It wouldn't be long before Morgause reached the edge of her enchantment, and she realised with a sinking feeling that the star had both entered and exited the charm with effortless ease, effectively breaking it in two. Was the enchantment still in place?

"_Dwi 'ch chreawdwr agor am 'm ewyllysia!"_Morgause hissed, and ripples of light, like a translucent veil appeared a few feet before her. Eyes maintaining their strong gold tone, she stepped through, and it closed instantly behind her. Her eyes pierced into the wild, but no immediate threat could be seen. If anything was after Morgause, it would have tried to kill her now, and failed, obviously. If a gifted knight couldn't kill her while she was busy dealing with someone else, then not much stood a chance against her. Then again, she had Morgana to thank for that. Before her sister had been poisoned, Morgause had only seen her as a useful tool in which to bring down Camelot. At first she had attempted to turn Arthur and Uther on each other, certain that Arthur would be a great King by allowing magic to return to the Kingdom, due to her gracious help regarding his mother. That had been thwarted. Yet still Morgause maintained a moral outlook, enchanting the city to sleep, using the King's Ward as an enchantment. The meddlesome servant Merlin had poisoned Morgana, and even Morgause wasn't cold enough to let her own sister die. She had given in to his demands and they escaped from Camelot.

The year they spent together strengthened the bond between them, and soon enough Morgause revealed their blood connection. She taught her the basic skills of magic, and how to control her power. Morgana was shown the truth of the corruption and tyranny in Camelot, and Morgause was pleasantly surprised by her passionate hatred for Uther. It made a lot of things easier, to know that your sister was know well and truly on your side, and that she could look after herself. Their attempted invasion on Camelot was a complete failure, but soon after Morgana discovered that she was Uther's daughter. At first, this was brilliant news; Morgana had a legitimate claim to the throne! Soon after, however, Morgause realised that this meant they weren't sisters at all; it was Gorlois who connected the two together, after all. Yet, thankfully, Morgana hadn't seemed to have noticed, so Morgause continued calling her 'sister', and the novice witch replied to her with the same title. She had to admit, she was very good at twisting minds to her will.

Morgause continued up the steep hill, which was covered all over in dense woodland. Some of the tress were at a sharp slant, and if it hadn't been for the magical important of this place, their roots would have been torn from the ground. The palace where Morgause resided was built nearly a thousand years ago, at the foot of the hill, because at the top was an ancient rune stone which was about five times as old as the palace. It was surrounded by a circle of ancient oak trees, the small clearing covered in countless layers of rotting leaves. A small circular step preceded the rune, and the stone itself was smothered in moss and algae, the grey stone prey to years of rain, wind, and ice. The ancient writings hewn into the rock claimed: 'A time of great upheaval will be forewarned by the return of'- That's where it stopped; the writings completely illegible from that point. Morgause had tried every spell in the book, and every spell which wasn't, and nothing had been able to return the timeless stone to its former glory. It was infuriating to the point where she had nearly accidentally blown it up, but she had been calmed down by the only person in the world capable of taming her explosive personality. No, it wasn't Morgana. This was long before she met her sister.

A cooling piece of rock was hissing from the contact of cold wind, sending smoke up to the canopy of the forest. It had left behind a trail of charred ground, and Morgause followed it with interest and caution. It reached a smouldering crater, which had blown into a small cliff face, just several feet short of hitting the rune. Huge chunks of recently moved stone surrounded the crater, and Morgause was disappointed to find that there was nothing there at all. She sighed with frustration; her journey had been in complete vain.

"It would seem that we have similar interests, Morgause."

* * *

Arthur awoke to the sound of banging doors and raised voices. On top of that he had a headache, which was always a bad combination with anything remotely negative or annoying. Ouch, his head, ouch...

Matters didn't get really improve when he realised that he was still at Gwen's house... What? Arthur jumped up, and banged his legs on the table. He seethed in pain, trying ever so hard not to shout out in frustration and wake up Gwen. No wonder he had a sore head; he'd fallen asleep on the rough wooden table! Groaning noisily, Arthur shielded his eyes from the inevitable dazzling sunlight as he opened the door.

That sunlight did not hit him full on the face, for it was not there. Instead, the faces of two bewildered guards met him. They clearly weren't expecting the crown Prince of Camelot to answer the door.

"Si... Sire?" one of them managed to stutter, his eyes wide from shock, as his helmeted head peered past the Prince. That was when Arthur realised he was bare-chested. Ah... not good. Gwen had cooled the skin on his face and back skin using a special gel she had been borrowed from Gaius. However true it may be if he claimed so, the guards here would be under a completely different impression entirely. This was quite an awkward moment. It might actually be the most awkward moment in his life, even surpassing that time when Merlin had drenched him in his own urine, and he was forced to give orders to a guard instantly after.

"Erm... what is it?" Arthur asked drowsily, not really sure how to start this one off.

"Sire, there's some kind of smoke emerging from the fiery star! We've been ordered to have everyone moved into the citadel."

That's when this all turned even worse; times by ten. Guess who had turn up, at a time like this? Yes, that's right, Merlin. Oh, dear god...

"Arthur, what are you-"Merlin stopped mid-sentence and stared at Arthur's topless figure, and then back to the guards... back to Arthur again. "Erm, I'm going to go back to the castle."

"Good idea," Arthur muttered under his breath darkly; this day getting from bad, to worse, and from worse to... well, Merlin.

"Make sure the city is completely clear of people before the smoke hits the city. I want all guards and knights there as well. I don't want any exceptions; every single person in the castle! Go!"

The guards nodded curtly and ran down the empty street, the noise of their clinking chain mail drifting down the lifeless road. Arthur closed the door shut and retrieved his shirt, pulling it over his head, while he stretched his arms and yawned. What was there to worry about a bit of mist? The Prince wasn't immediately worried; no doubt his still recovering father was suspecting an attack from Morgana. If a stretch of fog caused Uther to do this; he was surprised that an enormous star crashing right next to Camelot hadn't killed him. Arthur shouldn't be amused but a laugh somehow escaped his parched lips. He took a swig of water and went to wake up Gwen, but she was already up.

"What could you be laughing at, this time in the morning?" She said, rubbing her bright eyes.

"Oh, nothing important; I need to get you in the castle."

"Why?"

"The star has burnt out and it's releasing an exceptional amount of smoke. My father suspects it is some kind of trap. He's getting everyone in the citadel and sealing it until the smoke clears."

Arthur received 'one of those looks' from Gwen, and he wholly understood why.

"He's getting too paranoid now, although I can't blame him after the events of the past few months. Yet this is not going to make him feel any better. I just wish my father focused less on magic and realised there are other aspects of life as well as extinguishing sorcery."

Gwen merely nodded; she refused to say anything against the King, despite what he had done to her father.

Arthur returned to the door, and was surprised to see the smoke had travelled at an unnatural speed, having already snaked over the walls, and fill the lower town. In a few minutes it would reach them. He looked back into the house and called out to Gwen.

"Get as much food as you can, we might need it for all we know." Arthur's gaze returned to the- woah!

He slammed the door shut behind him, breathing heavily, despite having not even exercised. His father may have a point.

* * *

Morgause spun around on her the ball of her foot, and she forced a smile onto her lips. Before her was a man of great charisma, and excellent leadership skills. He was feared by many in Camelot, and loved by those with magic. Despite all of this, Morgause couldn't find herself to like him. She never had done; there was something about him that just didn't rub with her at all.

"Alvarr, what a pleasant surprise," Morgause lied, standing her ground "what brings you here?"

"The same as you," Alvarr pointed to the crater "although it would seem it was a wasted journey and a great anti-climax. I was expecting something, but it would seem there is nothing to see at all."

"Indeed." Morgause's eyes narrowed "You still have not justified your reason for being here, though. Only a High Priestess is permitted to these lands or a blood relation-"

"So, it's true then," Alvarr cut out Morgause's cold statement "Morgana is your sister."

"Yes, but I do not see how that should-"her eyes turned into slits "Hold on; how do you know that Morgana is here?"

Alvarr pulled off a mixture of a smirk and grin, and behind him emerged a small cloaked and hooded figure. Morgause's eyes couldn't become any narrower without closing so she merely folded her arms and maintained an emotionless expression. The figure pulled back the green hood and eyes of the same colour stared into hers, and for a moment, she could have sworn she had stared into those eyes before. A deep, forest green; so much like the environment surrounding them, yet even more intense, and evergreen. A young boy stood before Morgause, and he couldn't be much older than ten years. Yet there was something eternal about him, and that single, split-second moment where their eyes met. It was like they should have met long before now.

Morgause tore her eyes away from the child; what could he possibly mean to her? They had nothing in common, save a magical gift; Alvarr wouldn't have brought him along otherwise.

"This... is Mordred. He knows Morgana is here because he sensed her pain and heard her calling out for help, in here." Alvarr tapped his own head. "It would seem something has harmed her. I hope you're lack of love hasn't accidentally caused you to be too careful, has it?" Alvarr's words were filled with scorn and Morgause wanted to blow him to smithereens, but she couldn't. He was too important an icon in the battle against Camelot. If his death were to be caused by another sorcerer, morale among those with the gift would fall, and Uther would strike. However, as soon as the King was dead, Morgause would enjoy hearing Alvarr scream for mercy. Unbeknown to the presumptuous sorcerer, she did know of love, but she just very rarely let it show. When you did you were more likely to get hurt, and that was exactly what had happened to Morgause.

Mordred, you've heard of Morgause, I trust. She has quite a reputation." Morgause ignored Alvarr's curling lips and found it in herself to give a swift smile to the boy. He gave her one in return, warmer than her own, and it came as a surprise to her.

"_Morgana is waking up; we should go to the Palace_," Mordred, said, his voice reaching Morgause's mind, and proving his gift to her.

"Can we come?" Alvarr asked, this time with a sincere tone.

Morgause sighed. This was exactly what she had seen coming. Alvarr was using the boy's interesting gifts as a bribe to get into the palace... why? He hoped to see Morgana; that could be the only reason. She hoped that the two did not have a past, because Morgause would have to dissuade her from such a terrible notion. Alvarr was a notorious womaniser, and she didn't want her innocent sister to fall for this crooked man. There was no time for men when there were Kings to be killed, and Kingdoms to be toppled.

"Very well," Morgause said, each word full of reluctance "but you may only stay for a few days. I have important work to do."

* * *

Arthur had been in some tricky situations before, but this one might top them all. He was trapped in a small house with Gwen - it could be much worse, imagine being trapped in a house with Merlin? – Which was surrounded by a magical mist. Yes, hands down, his father had every right to have been suspicious. One second, it had barely breached the city. Within what couldn't have been more than two seconds looking away from it, it was several feet from Arthur. It had travelled two thousand paces in the space of two seconds; that is definitely magical.

"The back alleyway is full of it too!" Gwen referred to the swirling, visibly impenetrable mist. "Arthur, there's no way out!"

Arthur tried to ignore her, but he failed terribly. She was right; there was no way of leaving without risking himself to what could be poisonous smoke. All they could do was sit it out.

"We're going to have to stay until it clears," Arthur said, showing no hesitation or fear. That terrible word, '_If_', snaked its way into his head, the Prince didn't want to think like that. Even if...no, _when_ it did, Arthur would have to find some kind of excuse to explain to his father why he had been in Gwen's house in the first place. On the bright side, at least he'd have plenty of time to think up of a good excuse.

* * *

Merlin frantically searched Arthur's chambers again, and but there was no sign of his friend. He should be back by now! No, Merlin, he's not hiding in the wardrobe! He felt like an idiot for not dragging Arthur back to the castle, whether he was topless or not. Now he and Gwen were trapped, all because of Merlin's hesitancy. He had failed in his destiny to protect Arthur. The young warlock sat on Arthur's bed, misery gripping him because of his incompetence. Gaius had no solution to the problem; Kilgharrah may, but he was inaccessible because of what stood between the two. For all Merlin knew, even the Dragon might not be safe in these unpredictable conditions. All hope was truly lost. He had defeated magical beasts, magical beasts disguised as people, and other unpleasant people meaning harm to Camelot. He had defeated Sorcerers, witches, curses, creatures, poison, and warriors. Yet now, he couldn't stop a mysterious fog from taking his best friend away from him. Merlin had always possessed a mild fear for the known, but now a terror of the unknown gripped him coldly.

The door banged open, but Merlin's hopeful glance fell when he realised it was Gaius.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, Merlin! I may have found a way to guide you safely through the mist."

If he could have, Merlin would have jumped to the ceiling from excitement and impatience.

"Tell me what I need to do."

"You must break into the vaults underneath Camelot, and retrieve a crystal called the Stone of Inobscurity. If the tales are true, it will change your 'perception of the world, and guide you through the darkness'. Its an incredibly ancient artefact; one of the oldest and least understood relics of the Old Religion. It was all I could find."

Merlin could have kissed Gaius, but his legs threw him across the room and out of the door. There was still yet hope for Arthur and Camelot!

* * *

Thick, seemingly independent mist surrounded the city, enveloping the landscape all around in an opaque veil of obscurity. All sound from the world seemed to have died; the birdsong had subsided to nothing, and the normally rowdy lower town was all but deserted, and completely motionless. If everyone in Camelot instantly died, this would be how the land would be punished. The enormous, grounded star was shrouded, and yet more people travelled to its apparent final resting place, excited to see this wonder. Many had brought their wives and children with them. It mattered not. None of them ever returned home, and numerous hamlets were left to crumble and decay, as the rotting, abandoned houses of those unfortunate first victims marred the beautiful land of Albion. A terrible disease would spread throughout the land, with no diagnosis, and no cure. Camelot was destined for great things, but now, due to a stroke of incredibly bad luck, its very existence stood teetering on the verge of collapse. The legendary city was now in the firing line of a race to uncover the greatest secret of existence.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed that. I do like tense endings to chapters! In the next one you'll see Merlin try and navigate through the mist in a bid to save Arthur. Thank you for reading; it does mean a lot to me *hugs all round* :D.**


	4. An Unknown Enemy

**A big thanks to jaqtkd, horsegirl332211, Haley Renee and Jissai for your reviews! :D This chapter focuses on how Merlin exposes himself to a very dangerous piece of magic. In future it is going to test him beyond belief and he will even ask himself why magic even exists. So enjoy!**

* * *

In the dark recesses of the ancient, rotting palace, Morgause watched over her sister intently. She never liked hosting guests, magical or not, and Alvarr was no exception. In fact, it was even worse; she wouldn't trust him for a second, even if her life depended on it. The boy he had brought with him was very powerful, and he seemed to be close to her sister. Then again, Alvarr appeared to be as well. Morgause would have to deal with that at some point.

Morgana had recovered from her mystery illness. She had told Morgause every detail, and the sorceress took in each and every word, but she couldn't make sense of it. Fainting from a deafening noise was unusual, but then again it all had been very obscure. The most frustrating part of it all was that nothing had been found at the crash site! How could that be even possible? She saw it with her very own eyes, and now there was nothing left! It made no sense, and when situations didn't feel right, Morgause got self-protective and mildly paranoid. The presence of Alvarr and Mordred didn't help at all.

The sorcerer was standing in a corner, leaning against a wall while scribbling on a piece of aged parchment. He sighed loudly and folded the parchment away.

"Bad news; Camelot was not destroyed by the star. It fell just short and is on the border of the Forest of Ascetir. It's burnt out and shrouded the surrounding land in mist."

"How on earth would you know?" Morgause spat, a little more sharply than she meant to, but she made no effort in hiding her dislike for Alvarr.

Alvarr withdrew the parchment "It's a new way of contacting someone else from a long distance. Two pieces of parchment are twinned together, and you can send a message to the person with the other pieces, and your message will come up on it. It's more practical than a scrying bowl, and, well, more subtle." Alvarr smirked coldly "Perhaps you've been hiding here for too long, Morgause."

She made no reply, and merely turned back to Morgana. Her sister could see the disdain between the two of them and she didn't like it one bit. Why couldn't they just get on and focus on their common enemy?

"Who is the person with the other piece, then?" Morgana asked, in an attempt to re-kindle the conversation. She was still bed bound but more than capable of speech.

"His name is Korren. He's a freedom fighter like me; we take the fight to Uther, instead of lurking in the shadows." This was cast at Morgause, and she was ready to throw back a retort when Alvarr claimed he had received another message.

"Korren's saying that the mist has entered the city at a frightening speed. Uther's given an order to bring all the citizens into the city. He's going to take a closer look at the star."

Morgana smirked "Uther is such a coward; a bit of mist and suddenly he thinks he's under attack."

"It's a foolish form of communication anyway," Morgause threw in spontaneously "what if this 'Korren' were to be caught. For all you know you could be speaking to a Knight of Camelot."

"If anyone else touches it, the parchment will hide its secrets, and mine will turn to stone. It will only return to normal if he retrieves it successfully. Really, Morgause, you need to start thinking outside of the box."

Mordred merely sat in the corner, unwilling to get involved in this. He was focused on far more important things.

"Perhaps, during this state of panic, we could strike? It would be an opportune moment to kill Uther while the citadel is so densely populated." Morgana tried her best to keep this from falling into an argument.

Morgause shook her head "They'll be prepared for that. We need to find a foolproof plan where we cannot be caught and our plan is not discovered before we strike! Clearly, Camelot has a magical asset," Morgause threw her sister an important look; she was unwilling to share the identity of this man to Alvarr, or the mysterious boy for that matter.

Without warning, the parchment in Alvarr's hands crumbled and turned into ash, which slipped through his frozen fingers and fell to the floor. His face was that of shock.

"So," Morgause smirked accursedly "what does that mean, then?"

Alvarr didn't reply, and he turned his back on the sorceress, making his way to the door.

"Alvarr," Morgana said, with genuine concern "what is it? What has happened to Korren?"

Alvarr turned back, his eyes dark and his voice empty.

"He's dead."

* * *

Underneath the Castle...

Had it been under other circumstances, Merlin would have feared going down into the vaults. Yet this was a different matter. His friend was in danger and if he couldn't save Arthur in time, then their two great destinies would count for nothing, and who knows what would happen to Albion if Arthur didn't become King? Merlin didn't really want to think about that; it couldn't be a bright and golden future. That was certain.

Illuminated cobwebs lined the walls and overhanging ceiling, and dust had collected on the floor, Merlin's footprints easily visible. No one had been down here since the Crystal of Neahtid had been safely placed back down here, and that was over two years ago now. The vaults were riddled with ancient magical objects, all of them deemed dangerous by the King. It was supposedly filled with magical books, enchanted jewellery, sorcerer's staff's and other numerous apparel. Merlin was worried that the room would be saturated with trapped power; enough to make him feel weak or even pass out. He reached the ancient Iron Gate, where the taboo objects could be seen through.

"_Chyfynga 'm allu a cadw 'm 'n ddihangol chan beth Mai feddwl 'm amhara_."

Merlin felt a warm wave of cool air wash over him, and he felt more at peace than before. Still, though, there was more magical work to be done.

"_Agor am 'm archa!"_

The gate groaned under pressure and the lock turned, the old iron bars complaining loudly as they swung open. Merlin stepped through, and felt the warm protection around him cool a little. He couldn't stay here for too long. The power in here was unhealthy for him, and could potentially kill him if he ever got stuck down here. Nonetheless, interest nearly grasped him through all the fascinating magical relics and ancient writings surrounding him. Perhaps, if Arthur did ever allow magic to return to Camelot when he was King, Merlin could come down here again and create some kind of magical library. For now, however, Arthur's life was on the line.

It was quite difficult locating the Stone of Inobscurity. Merlin nearly cursed himself for not asking Gaius what the jewel looked like; he'd been too swept away with the sudden chance of being able to help Arthur.

As he passed the dreaded Crystal of Neahtid, Merlin noticed something from the corner of his eye. A flash of intense blue pulsed from a dark corner, and he knelt to the ground, picking up the source of the light. It was a stone; not much larger than an egg, in the shape of a hexagon. It was a bright blue colour; strange swirls of gradient moved constantly inside it. The stone was encrusted in a silver case, with a chain, and Merlin instinctively put it around his neck.

A searing pain travelled from his eyes all the way to his head, then heart, and his blood felt like it was on fire. He thought he was going to scream out, but someone would hear him, and then he'd be no use to anyone. Merlin's entire body was shaking violently, and he fell from his knees to the floor, his eyes forcibly tight shut. The pain was unbelievable; it was that excruciating he would have cried if it hadn't been for the fact he couldn't. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The agony built up, and up, and up, until it rushed through his entire body, and it eventually sucked itself away from him.

Merlin opened his eyes, and frowned. This wasn't right; why was everything purple and blue? He looked at his own, hands, and noticed they were a bright white, but they were turning into a light orange now. It didn't make any sense! What was going on?

He looked down at the stone dangling around his neck, and realised he couldn't even tell if it was still blue or not. To him it stood out from his red chest, as a blue chain, which was turning into a dull orange around his neck. Seeing the world this way was wholly new to Merlin; he had never heard of a magic which could change your physical perception of the world. Perhaps in a dream, or vision, such as a seer's power, but nothing like this.

Merlin tried to walk through the maze of objects, and found it a lot easier than he thought. As he walked the through the gates, his mouth opened to enchant the door to lock itself, but it simply did as he commanded without the need for incantation. He stared, unsure of how he had done that. Was it something to do with this stone? It had to be. Whether it was or not, Merlin was thankful he had found such a powerful object to help him get Arthur and Gwen out of that accursed mist. The torches to his left and right burned white, the embers the same colour until they hit the ground; the purple steps were covered in red dots. His new powerful vision was going to take some getting used to. Would it even leave his eyes when he completed the task?

Merlin barged his way through the heavy, stubborn door at the top of the stairs, noticing his green finger marks all over the latch. Something clicked in his mind, and he swore he was about to figure out why everything was in different colours, when a blue wave flashed horizontally across his eyes, so quickly he barely even noticed it. What he did notice, however, was that his vision had returned to normal.

The warlock could have kicked the wall in frustration, but all that would come in his way then was a sharp pain in his foot. Something in his head struck him. Just go outside; everything would be fine. Why did he even think that?

Merlin's feet took him past panicking residents of Camelot, who filled the hallways of the sealed citadel. It had been a struggle fitting nearly twenty thousand people in the castle, but somehow, it had been pulled off. However, there wasn't enough food stored inside to last everyone three days. If this mist didn't clear anytime soon, they would all have two choices before them. One: starve in the castle, or two: brave the mists and try to escape Camelot. Rumour, however, had gripped the citizens in fear. There was talk of a creature hidden by the fog that ate human flesh. Others were speaking of a sorcerer army. Both were terribly wrong; it was much worse than either of those.

Merlin reached the antechamber to one of the side exits into the courtyard. He closed the door behind him, and faced the one ahead of him, fidgeting with the stone in his hands... wait. It was clear! The swirling blue light within the stone had all but diminished. All that remained was a clear, opaque stone; lifeless. There was only one place that light could have gone... inside Merlin. He kissed the stone, praying for that special visual magic to return. Closing his eyes, Merlin swung the door wide open and threw himself into the courtyard.

* * *

Gwen's House...

Arthur had never been in a position like this before... being trapped in a house, in fear of being swallowed up by some magical mist. He blamed the star; everything had gone from ok to terrible since that had fallen from the sky and crashed next to his city... well, his father's city. It appeared that even stars are full of magic. How could that be? Arthur had been under the impression that sorcery was an evil practice carried out by those who only wished to further themselves, at the expense of innocent lives. He had nearly been convinced that not all magic was evil, but thankfully Merlin had pulled Arthur away from Morgause's deceiving trick.

A constant '_thump'_ sound hit the air without fail every few seconds, as Arthur tapped the table he was sitting by with his knife. He'd forgotten his sword; perhaps if he had that he'd feel a bit more comfortable with making a run for it to the citadel. With Gwen, of course. He'd never leave her, whatever the situation.

"Excuse me, that's my table you're stabbing," Gwen's chiding tone caused Arthur to break the routine and sheath his dagger in its little leather scabbard.

"Sorry," Arthur said absent-mindedly, standing up and beginning to pace the room, his footsteps louder than they should be. He was rarely a man to be scared, but his heart nearly imploded when there was a knock on the door.

"Arthur, don't answer it." Gwen's voice was filled with fear, and her eyes showed it too. Arthur shook his head grimly and took a step closer.

"Arthur, don't!"

"We can't stay here forever, Gwen. Who knows how long it will take before this clears? We'll be safer in the citadel."

Arthur turned his attention back to the expressionless door. He drew out his knife, and it felt rather small at that point. He took a deep breath in, bracing himself for anything. He threw the door open and-

"Merlin?" Arthur's face screwed up in shock and irritation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Coming to save your royal backside, sire," Merlin grinned, slamming the door behind him as he blinked.

Arthur's bewildered expression caused Merlin to explain "Well, I couldn't just leave you two out here could I?"

Arthur nodded curtly; his way of saying 'thank you', but he wasn't satisfied yet.

"Is it safe out there?"

"Well I got here in one piece."

"Merlin, I won't go out there with Guinevere until I know its safe enough!" Arthur gave Merlin a harsh glare; he was doing this for Gwen's safety, not his own.

"Arthur, you can't let Merlin risk his life-"

"No, Gwen, it's alright." Merlin nodded understandingly to Arthur, and went to leave, but the Prince grabbed him by the arm.

"I should go with you-"

"Sire... Arthur, its fine. Someone needs to look after Gwen. I'll be fine anyway. I won't be too long."

Arthur nodded grimly, knowing he would take a long time, because making a mistake out there could be his last.

"Merlin," his friend turned to face him "look after yourself."

Merlin gave Arthur one of those strangely reassuring smiles, before opening the door and being swallowed up by the terrible mist. He clicked the door shut, leaning against it, and sincerely praying that Merlin would come back alive and well.

* * *

Back in the Palace...

Morgana, despite Morgause's insistence on the contrary, had followed Alvarr out of her bedchamber. She had seen the pain on his face, and after how he had comforted her all that time ago; she wanted to return the favour. He was the only man she'd ever found comfort in, and it his arrival had been a blessing, sweetened even more by Mordred's surprise visit. She felt a strange connection to the boy, and it was beyond explanation, but Morgana knew it was there for a reason. The two should have met each other long before they did. Their futures were entwined. Something in the bottom of her heart hoped the same was for Alvarr as well, but she did not sense such a connection. Sometimes, there was something stirring, but Morgana admitted to herself she was probably just looking for it. She just hoped Alvarr and Mordred could stay. All four of them stood a better chance against Uther than they did divided. Why did Morgause harbour such dislike for Alvarr? Why did she look so uncomfortable around Mordred? Morgana could only presume she did not warm to visitors, whoever they were or whatever their intentions may be.

"Alvarr?" She knocked on the nearest door. No reply. Nonetheless, she checked inside, but there was no sign of him. Her head spun sharply when she heard a door further down slam shut, the noise reverberating loudly. Morgause came into view from the other end, a questioning look on her face. Mordred was right behind her, almost looking to the sorceress for an answer.

"Alvarr, you should treat my palace with some more respect; it's more valuable than your greasy-"

"Sshhh!" Alvarr appeared behind them, giving Morgana a shock.

Another door opened further down the corridor, and they all sunk into the shadows of a wide, arched alcove. All four of them looked at one another for an answer. There was no way anyone would have been able to break through Morgause's protective bubble. It was actually impossible! Morgana fully believed in her sister's talents and would never doubt them. Even now... perhaps it was just a strong wind.

"There's someone else here," Alvarr whispered at a barely discernable level.

"You never fail to state the incredibly obvious!" Morgause hissed nastily, her hand outstretched as she attempted to frighten off the intruder.

"_Ad 'm barth ai balfalu 'm bariaeth!_"

A flame in the shape of an eagle emerged from her hand and flew at a ferocious speed towards the source of the noise. Another door opened, and the fiery bird went to attack... but it simply diminished after attempting to enter the doorway. Morgana frowned... Morgause would never cast a weak spell in front of someone she cared for, such as her sister. The door closed again, this time a little more quietly.

For a moment they all stood there, not sure what to do, but it wasn't long before Alvarr broke the silence.

"_Amlyga , ai ddioddef 'r bwysau!_"

A wall of orange light burst down the corridor, leaving no space behind. Yet there was no change.

"Okay, that shouldn't happen." Alvarr did not look fearful; more curious than anything else. Morgana, however, was getting a little uncomfortable. None of their magic was making any difference; who was capable of fending off Morgause's and Alvarr's magic without even having to reveal themselves? Even Mordred looked a little frightened, and Morgana was well aware that the young boy was no pushover.

Through the eerie atmosphere, a toneless voice hit them, and a white flash hit Morgana's eyes, blinding her.

"_Chyfnewidaist choelbren er Barha lifia 'ch._"

* * *

In the lower market...

Merlin was scared. He would not deny it to anyone, even Arthur. He was absolutely terrified. Even through the new vision he had acquired, the mists still seemed impenetrable to his gaze. All was a dark blue, with no sign of any colour. What worried his even more was that his hands had changed. Just minutes ago, they had been a dull orange. Now they resembled the surrounding environment perfectly. As he rubbed his hands together, they felt freezing cold.

The sound of his footsteps seemed to be far louder than they should be, yet his step felt lighter. Merlin felt livelier and more aware of his surroundings. A sound hit his ears; it was a pigeon taking flight further down the round. There was no way he would have heard that before. Gaius had claimed that the stone would change his visual perception, but Merlin had the strange feeling it had done much more than that.

The street was completely lacking life. His eyes could just about take note of the outlines of buildings, carts, and stalls. Everything was all the same colour through his new eyes, but something made him turn sharply and focus further down the road... a speck of orange near a street corner.

Merlin made a run for it, jumping over upturned carts and scattered debris, most of which he could barely even see. The dot of colour was growing in size as he neared closer, and it took shape and became an outline of an unpleasant sight, something which filled Merlin with dread and panic... a body.

He couldn't tell who it was; only that the long hair increased the chances of them being a woman. The house where the body had been dumped outside had its door ajar, and more blots of orange and green hit him, all familiar shapes. He pried his eyes away from the terrible sight, before looking out to all of the lower market. The place was filled with bodies... there must be hundreds of people here! Terror rooted him to the spot and Merlin was terrified to make any noise at all. Who the hell was capable of this? How was even still alive? A noise further down the street nearly made Merlin faint in horror before his body physically forced him back up to the street. The fear seemed to carry him faster towards Guinevere's house and his unsteady breathing was the only noise in his burning ears. He threw the door wide open, his eyes flashing before normal vision returned to him. A bewildered Arthur and Gwen were greeting him.

"We... need to get out of here... _now_," Merlin said, his chest tightening painfully.

"We should stay here-"

"No, Arthur," Merlin cut out his master, because the two of them were in exceptional danger "we need to go right now! There are hundreds of bodies down there. I don't know who or what killed them, but they will get us too unless we go back to the citadel now! Come on! Hold onto Gwen!" Merlin grabbed Arthur's arm and yanked him outside, Gwen holding tightly onto the other arm. He scanned the fog as his vision changed yet again, but there were no danger signs of bright orange. He still didn't want to spend any more time here, though. The events of the past few hours had shook Merlin to the core, and he wasn't sure if this new enemy could be dealt with as easily as the other's had been. They hid themselves in magical mist which could not be cleared, and there was no sign of them whatsoever, even with his new magical gift. Merlin would take great care in the future if he ever faced them again, and he mentally vowed never to bring Arthur with him. He wasn't too sure if he could fight this enemy while protecting Arthur. He wasn't even sure if he could fight them full stop.

Merlin had been scared before, but in not in the way that gripped him now. The surrounding, seemingly closing in darkness of his eyesight was only worsened by the terrible cold air which stroked his skin softly, yet threateningly. It was like being trapped in a cave, knowing that you could not get out, while also knowing there was a beast in there which was about to eat you alive... but ten times worse. As they reached the drawbridge, Merlin looked back towards the city, and felt a wave of sheer terror strike through his very heart.

"Arthur, Gwen, you're in the courtyard. Keep going and you'll get to the main door. Go!" He watched the two leave him, and he was glad that they did not question him, because he wouldn't have seen the drawbridge close. The reassuring sound of an opening and closing door reached his ears from behind. Arthur and Gwen were safely inside... that was good.

Merlin went to turn towards the main entrance himself, but he felt his muscles go numb as he was thrown back through the air and into the foundation wall of the battlements. The cracking noise was deafening as he contacted the tough stone. He jumped back up instantly, and frowned... he should be dead! The force of the spell had sent him flying at a breakneck speed. How come he felt completely unharmed? There was no time for questions though, as Merlin felt for the door that he knew was next to him, and there was nothing more comforting to him now than the feeling of a latch.

Merlin opened it, and spun round, facing the outside. During the fleeting moment where his eyes switched perceptions, what looked like a grey, shining hand reached out from the mist towards him. He felt like his neck was going to snap in two, and he cried out in pain, only for the hand to be yanked away from him, and the door was slammed shut with convincing force. He felt his eyes bulge outwards from his head, and after that he was breathless. Merlin sighed with a mixture of fatigue and relief. A lot of questions were hitting the walls of his head and he needed answers from Gaius now. When he had touched The Stone of Inobscurity, he had received an awful lot more than he had bargained for. Then again, it may be the only reason he was still alive.

Merlin passed through a corridor filled with people; their eyes telling the story of their despair and suffering. He walked up a few steps before turning a corner and reaching Gaius' quarters. He opened without knocking and found the physician tending to an unconscious guard with a blow to his head.

"Ah, Merlin, you're back. So, did you manage to find the stone?"

"Keep up Gaius!" Merlin laughed, although he had to force it a little. "'I've already managed to get Arthur and Gwen out of the mist."

Well done, my boy, well done!" Gaius went to embrace Merlin but he stopped, and recoiled, as if he had just been hit by a bucketful of cold water.

"Merlin," Gaius asked, his voice filled with concern "are you feeling alright?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" Merlin decided to go along with Gaius' suggestion; clearly he was noticing something that he did not.

"Your eyes," Gaius peered closer, a look of worry etched in his old lines "... they've changed."

"In what way?" Merlin was getting worried now.

"They are brighter; much brighter! Yet, I see a cold remorselessness within them. I don't know what to think of it. It must be something to do with the Stone of Inobscurity."

"What can you tell me about the Stone?" Merlin sat down at the table, not too sure if he knew himself anymore. Gaius joined him at the table, a cup of hot liquid warming his hands.

"The Stone was created by the first ever High Priestess. Her name was lost in time, but it was known she was exceptionally gifted, and the stone was her very first creation, as well as being her most powerful. It was lost the day she died, until a few hundred years ago when none other than Cornelius Sigan discovered it in an ancient crypt, presumably that of the first High Priestess. It made him near invincible; no sorcerer in history could even match his power. He was only defeated when the stone was forced from him in his sleep. That was the only way the King of Camelot managed to have him executed. Of course, even to this day, he is considered the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived, but very few know what made him the greatest was the stone. His magic was unique but eventually the stone corrupted his soul. It changed him into what everyone feared. After his apparent death, the stone was placed in the vaults; one of the very first objects to be put down there. They say it does not just change how someone sees the world, but also their magic and, ultimately, it changes _them_."

The last word sent a terrible chill up Merlin's spine, and his neck started tingling, like someone was watching him. "I've never heard of magic like that before."

"Neither have I," Gaius replied solemnly, eyeing Merlin worriedly "until now." He gestured to ancient book to his right.

"There is more."

Merlin didn't really want to hear more, but he might need to know how to deal with the growing enemy within himself before he could trust the new power within him.

"Go on."

"It says here that the Stone will gift the user ultimate power over any enemy. I think you'll find Merlin that your powers have completely changed. You may no longer possess the gift of the Dragonlord, but I fear you can now do things that no living being has ever been capable of before."

"When I got Arthur and Gwen into the castle, something attacked me. It magically threw me against a wall but I wasn't even hurt! How can that be possible?"

"The magic of the Stone must be protecting you; if you were to take it off then you would no longer-"

"I don't think so, Gaius," Merlin showed the physician the colourless stone. "It was blue when I picked it up, but now... nothing."

Gaius went to take the stone from Merlin's hands, but he recoiled yet again in shock.

"Merlin, you're freezing!"

"Am I?" Merlin asked, dumbfounded. He couldn't even tell any difference.

Gaius took a step back, his lazy eye working hard to uncover the enigma before him.

"I think you best speak to the Dragon about the Stone of Inobscurity. He may know more than I do."

"I can't; he'll have to come to me!"

"I beg to differ," Gaius pointed outside "it would seem whatever was trying to kill you, you have scared it off. The mist is finally clearing."

Merlin sighed, giving in. Yet there was still one more thing.

"You said that the mist claimed the lives of only those who had no magical gift."

"Yes, that is correct," Gaius replied simply.

"Then why did it try to kill me?"

* * *

Back in Morgause's Palace...

Morgause bruised her banging head, as she found the strength to lift herself from the floor. Her vision was blurry and bright at the edges, like she had been physically stunned by something. Alvarr, Morgana and Mordred were all awake, but still nursing sore heads. She stood over them all, glaring brightly.

"Clearly whatever attacked us was very powerful, but it meant no harm to us. I will not wait any longer; we must strike Camelot now while it is weak with fear. We will infiltrate the court itself and live among our enemies. We will gain their trust in disguise until we are close enough to bring down Uther and Arthur, so Morgana can take her rightful place on the throne." She threw a swift smile in the direction of her sister.

"So, Alvarr, Mordred, are you willing to help, or do you wish to leave now, because I will not waste any more time here when our enemies have been weakened by a stroke of good fortune!"

"My friend was killed," Alvarr said slowly "so I don't see how Camelot is weak in any way! Think of me however you want, Morgause, but Korren was a skilled magician and he would have easily defeated Knights of Camelot!"

"I do not think you understand, Alvarr, although I wouldn't ask your small mind to stretch so far," Morgause smirked, pacing the room they were now in, which was the one the intruder had been in when they were attempting to force them out.

"Morgana and I will assume the role of two noble women seeking refuge after an attack on bandits. A nearby village has been raided by bandits and the town we live in, despite its size and stronghold, can no longer protect us to our satisfaction. We will proceed to Camelot, seeking protection and quarters in the castle, as our social status demands."

"That is a great plan, sister, but who's lives will we take over?"

"There are two women, cousins to be exact, who are in such a predicament right now. If we can kill them and soak their blood in these necklaces-"Morgause produced two gold chains, from each of which hung a small green emerald "-then we can adapt their physical features and be welcomed into Camelot."

"What can we do?" Alvarr asked dully, as if he was bored.

"You can continue your pointless guerrilla warfare against Uther if you wish, or you could be of some actual use and have some of your less noticeable men enlist on the guard of Camelot. It will be much easier contacting you that way in case we need your help. Mordred can go with you."

Alvarr nodded, but Morgana was having none of it.

"Sister, please, let Mordred come with us. He could disguise himself as a boy and travel with us. Surely you have another necklace?"

"Yes," Morgause said, irritated by her sister's intervention "but I do not see how this boy will help us."

"He has powerful gifts, sister. Please, for me."

Morgause sighed; the boy made her feel uncomfortable. She had seen his eyes somewhere before...

"Fine," she replied coolly, and Morgana's face brightened "but I will not save his skin if he threatens our plan." Her added whisper was cold and unforgiving. She knew she was capable of zero emotion, and during times like this, when action needed to be taken; Morgause thanked herself for her cold, sharp edge. It could win her the war against Uther.

* * *

**So, hope you enjoyed that. Ask me for translations of the spells if you want to know them. Except the last one. You're not allowed to know yet :P, and don't try translating it, because it doesn't work haha. **

**The mist has finally cleared so Merlin and Arthur will finally see what the stat actually looks like. Morgana and Morgause will put their plans into motion and enter Camelot. The pieces are beginning to move; little do they realise they are all pawns, just part of a much bigger game. I hope you're enjoying reading, because I'm definitely enjoying writing it! Thanks for reading!**


	5. The Perfect Disguise

**A huge thanks to Jaqtkd, Jissai, Haley-Renee, jedichild and Cawm for their reviews! Most reviews I've got for one chapter so far so I was really humbled :-) In this chapter you'll see... well, please read!**

* * *

The northern borders of the Kingdom of Camelot were harsh, unpredictable lands, to say the least. The weather was generally pleasing to the skin, and the fields were arable and fertile, but the fact it was near borders between two kingdoms removed the attractive shine from the area. Mercia and Camelot had declared a time of peace between one another, but southern Mercia was riddled with bandit outposts and gangs of common thieves and outlaws. It was rumoured many soldiers had left Lord Bayard's army after the peace treaty had been confirmed; they had lost friends to Camelot and they demanded revenge. The best way to achieve that was by joining groups of bandits who continued to wage their own war against Camelot. Yet they did not care about land or power; money and pillage was all that was on their agenda. They built wooden strongholds or moved into ancient watchtowers and fortresses, regularly attacking the outlying villages of Camelot. Today would be such a day.

The spring sun had reached its apex, and was now falling down towards the westerly horizon. Rolling fields of lush, healthy grass were scattered with small copses of trees, the leaves now growing back after the harsh winter beforehand. From the edge of a tiny village, Abelena called out her cousin.

"Come, Rosalia, we don't have all day! We're going to miss the escort if you don't hurry up!"

Her younger, curious cousin was nowhere to be seen. All seemed at peace, but the more quickly Abelena got out of here, the better. She no longer felt comfortable around these parts, and nothing would be more reassuring to the heart and mind than the sight of the high, strong walls of Camelot. Word had just reached the outlying villages that a star had crashed down to the earth. Many were eager to see it, but if they did then they would lose all they had, which to be frank was very little. Nonetheless, it was all they had in their name, so the villagers had no choice but to remain and hope that the bandits would not come back. Of course, they always did. That was why Abelena had been so irritated when Rosalia had insisted on saying goodbye to some friends. She had a tendency of making friends with the peasants, which Abelena found quite pointless considering the lower echelons of society were boring, mundane and unpleasant people.

"We both know it's another hour till the escort arrives, cousin. Why are you so insistent on leaving anyway?"

Rosalia came into sight. She was the more attractive of the two, and had barely reached twenty years of age. She had flowing, wavy blonde hair which cascaded halfway down her back. Her soft, pale features were spoilt by her powerful, bright green eyes, which sparkled whatever the weather. Her small button nose was tainted with a small spot of dirt and Abelena did not hide her disapproval.

"You know why, and I will not have you waste anymore time speaking to commoners when our lives are in danger here!"

Abelena turned away from the village in a brisk, very un-ladylike walk. Rosalia had no choice but to catch up. The small village, which had been given the name Fieldton, was barely a ten minute walk from a much larger town called Arberton. Several fields separated the two, and a small patch of evergreen woodland, the thick leaves blocking out the orange rays of sunlight. Many of the villagers placed their valuables inside the town, within which lived nearly two thousand people. It was the largest town in the north of Camelot, and the bandits were not foolish enough to bite of more than they could chew. Any sign of the rogues from the north, and the people would seek shelter in Arberton. Most of Fieldton's food supplies were also stored in the neighbouring town. Only the high walls of Camelot, however, would satisfy Abelena's worries. She was four years Rosalia's senior, and understood the dangers of the world much more than her cousin. The noblewoman had not graced Uther's halls of power for quite some time now, but she was known enough to be given quarters in the castle. Rosalia had never been to the grand capital of the kingdom, and didn't seem to want to go either.

"Why do we have to go to Camelot?" Rosalia asked innocently, skipping silently through the ankle deep grass.

"Arberton is not safe enough anymore, Rosalia. If we leave now, there is still a chance we can ask for more soldiers to protect us when we return." Abelena was lying; she had no intention of returning here. It was her mission to find a rich lord and settle down in the comforts of court. She would still protect Rosalia, of course, but if her cousin wished to return back to a simple life among simple people, then she had no problem with that. Abelena was slightly jealous of Rosalia's looks, and she realised that she could not match her for beauty. Her eyes were too cold, and her hair was too dark to be considered 'normal'. She was also uncannily tall, whereas her cousin was unusually short. Anyone noticing the two in a crowd would never guess they were related.

They entered the small wood, at the other of which they would see the tall, but wooden walls of Arberton. The dead pine leaves cast a layer over the ground and several pine cones dotted the surface, some half buried. The thin tree trunks were thin but numerous, forcing the two to navigate through the maze of young trees. An owl hooted softly from above, but the setting sun could no longer be seen through the dense woodland. A dark shadow was cast over this place, and Abelena had to adjust her eyes to the darkness.

They soon reached a small clearing, and the edge of the forest could just about be seen through the numerous layers of overlapping branches. Abelena grabbed the hand of her cousin and went towards the welcoming light, but a deafening snap of a grounded branch forced her to turn around.

"Hello?" Abelena called out, her eyes squinting and struggling to discover the source of the sound. Distant footsteps could be heard straight ahead of them, and she could feel Rosalia's hand shaking in hers. Something was not right. Wait, why was the sound so-

Her mind went blank as she felt a sting hit the back of her neck, and she fell to the ground. Rosalia barely let out a scream before she did the same. The two noblewomen lay motionless on their backs, unmoving eyes facing upwards to the sky. A figure stood over them, and three more emerged from the other side of the clearing. They all removed their hoods and Morgause permitted herself a smile, impressed by how smoothly that had gone.

"How did you do that?" Alvarr was the tallest of now un-hooded figures, and his eyes were full of intrigue as he gazed into Morgause's smug face.

"It is an incantation which replicates footsteps from a certain point into whichever direction you want. You never know, if you actually are of use in our plot to destroy Camelot, I might teach you it."

Morgause then gestured to Morgana "Come closer, sister."

The young witch did as she was asked, standing over the bodies just as Morgause was. The older sorceress gazed at the two bodies, with not a shred of remorse.

"I think I will take the younger one. It will be a strange experience being liked by men instead of being feared by them." Morgause knelt over the girl named Rosalia, and withdrew a small golden necklace with a bright emerald. She took a deep breath in, before reciting the complicated incantation.

"_At 'r allu Ca earnt drwo 'r 'n Hen Chrefydd , chymhorthdal 'm 'r gras achos 'm enaid at d hun ag hon chorff. Ewyllysia ond arfer hon ddonia achos 'r 'n fwy da chan pawb hynny ag hud , a Addawa siwrnai 'm dasgu ydy chwblha , 'm 'n ddiau chorff ewyllysia ddod allan."_

A hazy golden light surrounded Morgause, until she was completely invisible to the others. The light eventually faded, but Morgause had vanished. Another Rosalia now stood over the unmoving one, and she held a necklace tightly in her hand. Grabbing a knife, she withdrew a small amount of blood, until a drop fell into the emerald, which glowed brightly before turning deep crimson, and eventually dulling to a normal ruby colour. She placed the necklace around her neck, and breathed in deeply, while closing her eyes. When she re-opened them, Morgause looked down and smiled over her sister, who was both eager and anxious to be transformed as well.

"_At 'r allu Ca earnt drwo 'r 'n Hen Chrefydd , chymhorthdal 'm 'r gras achos hon 'n anrhydeddus benyw s enaid at d hun ag hon chorff. Hi ewyllysia ond arfer hon ddonia achos 'r 'n fwy da chan pawb hynny ag hud , a addawa siwrnai hon dasgu ydy chwblha , 'i 'n ddiau chorff ewyllysia ddod allan."_

Morgana was shrouded in golden light, and her figure was lost. She was replaced by an exact copy of Abelena. Morgause was now physically the younger of the two, and she secretly took great pleasure in that. Both of them had also replicated the cousins in clothing as well as physical appearance.

"So, what now?" Morgana asked, her voice deeper but still very feminine.

"We will bury the bodies, and meet up with the escort that is planned to collect us at the town of Arberton." Morgause pointed over towards the small town with a slender, pale finger. Her voice was now lighter, softer, and sweeter. She was a little shorter than her usual self, and not as strong. This body would take some getting used to. She would have no problem with the acting; it was her sister she was worried about in that regard. Morgana had finely portrayed an innocent, scared ward at the Castle of Fyrien, but this would take much more skill. This was not a fleeting visit; this was months of getting close to the King and the Prince, and silencing both of them, before Morgana could finally retake the throne that was rightfully hers. She was older than Arthur, so she was directly in line for the throne, even over Arthur.

"Remember, we have studied these two women to the greatest of our ability. We must act like everything in our lives has been turned upside down. We must be wary of the manservant, Merlin. He has caused trouble for us before but we will not attempt to kill him, as that will only decrease our chances of finishing off our intended targets. Sister, we can do this. I trust you." Morgause smiled into the stranger's face but she knew Morgana was in there. The older woman smiled in return and went on ahead of Morgause, towards Arberton. The now younger woman found her footing with these smaller feet and walked over to Alvarr confidently.

"When you have found a boy sufficient to take the place of Mordred, send me a message through one of your recently assigned guards of Camelot. I will come and place a similar spell to him. If we can, we should try to time it with a bandits attack on one of these villages."

The sound of screams drifted over from the small village, and Morgause looked at Alvarr carelessly.

"Let us leave this place. This is not our fight."

Alvarr and Mordred left, travelling to the West. Morgause and Morgana moved southwards, becoming familiar with their new bodies. Several more sunlight-drenched fields separated them from their destination; Arberton. The newly placed wooden staves were slightly barbaric in appearance, but they kept the job of keeping bandits away. Uther was not as rich as he claimed, and Morgause's new face felt unaccustomed to smirking as she realised this was yet another advantage to her against the tyrant. The fool couldn't hold out for long. As soon as he was dead, many parties would scramble to pick up the pieces, and Morgause was more than ready to take it all.

The thick, roughly hewn doors were wide open, and the two walked through in a stance that was identical to the one they had seen the two previous ladies carry out. Morgause knew plenty about Rosalia; she was the kind girl who loved nature and was very friendly and compassionate with the less fortunate members of society. She was admired by many men but had shown no interest in any of them as of yet. She hated violence and unbalance; all in all, she was a very peaceful girl... perhaps what Morgause may have been had she not been born in such a cruel world.

Abelena was very headstrong and independent, but arrogant in nature and despised Rosalia's friendliness towards all around her. She was more aware of the decorum of court and had met Uther before; her father had been one of his greatest knights and friends. Morgause had helped her sister with the details and she left the rest to Morgana; she was used to dining with the King and her visit would undoubtedly demand that.

The relationship between the cousins was fairly complicated. They had grown up together and had bonded as friends, but their emotional differences had affected their friendship through adulthood, but the sheer innocence of Rosalia had been taken advantage of by the more cunning Abelena. Still, though, they both respected each other to the point where bickering was as worse as it got. The older lady was inclined to care and look out for Rosalina, and she was notorious for scaring off men who attempted to court the younger cousin.

The town was typical of any other; watchtowers overlooking each horizon, with a bell hanging from each. The market was the first stage of the town, before leading up to the homes, and eventually the fortress, which was a crumbling castle built many, many years ago by invading Roman forces. Morgause smiled brightly at several passers by, greeting one or two and giving a coin to an unfortunate old lady with a poorly back. Morgana, on the other hand, strode confidently up the street, looking no one in the eye save for a Knight of Camelot, whom she gave what could have been the smallest, least noticeable smile in history. The two sisters were portraying the two cousins perfectly.

Outside the ancient walls of the castle, a maid was heaving heavy wooden boxes into the back of an armed cart, where four guards of Camelot were sitting at the front and rear of, two at each end. A single Knight of Camelot was on horseback ahead of the cart, scanning the streets for the people he had been charged to guard. When he found them, he cantered over to the two ladies.

"My ladies," he bowed low while remaining on horseback "I am to escort you to Camelot with immediate haste. We are to leave by the southern gate as soon as possible, and by order of the King, you are to receive full hospitality and protection at Camelot."

Morgana smiled broadly at this, but Morgause did not, and sulked a little as she stormed off towards the cart. She greeted the maid loading the cart.

"Do, I really have to go, Amelia?"

"Yes you do, dear, and we both know it's the best for you and your cousin. I know you've never been to Camelot before, but you'll be greeted with open arms, and I assure you, the court will appear daunting at first, but you'll be fine in a couple of days. Now, go, sweetie, before I start to get tears in my eyes." The lady snivelled softly and Morgause embraced her warmly.

"I promise I'll look after myself, as long as you do the same."

Hurry up, Rosalia! We need to leave now!" Morgana's sharp new voice broke the moment between the two.

"Of course I will, dear. I'll be careful, and I will be thinking of you."

Morgause felt a fake tear stream down her soft, unspoilt cheeks and she waved walked daintily over to the cart, looking back painfully at the sight of the maid she had grown up with all her life. Little did the woman realise she was looking right into another lady. Yet Morgause still felt no genuine pity. It would take much more than that.

Morgause joined Morgana in the cart, and the younger sister closed her curtain instantly. The other, however, did not, and her long blonde hair whipped out of the cart as her head poked out and waved frantically at the maid. After she turned the corner, she pulled sat down and pulled the curtain back. She smiled at Morgana.

"So far, so good."

* * *

In Camelot...

It had been over a week since the earth had shaken in the might of a fallen star. Terrible mists had taken over the Camelot and over four hundred people had disappeared from the city, as well as reports of missing people from nearby villages and towns. So far, nearly a thousand people had vanished, and rumours had escalated to the point where many believed the star had taken them as punishment for persecuting magic. Of course, Merlin knew better.

After he had reported the sight of bodies inside houses – he didn't mention he could also see bodies outside as that would appear suspicious – Merlin had faced a humiliating confrontation with Arthur after no bodies were found when the mist had cleared. He knew he was right, but he couldn't tell Arthur that, else it would look like Merlin would have magic, which of course he did... but it had changed.

Even the normally oblivious Prince had noticed the change of colour in Merlin's eyes, and the warlock had suggested it must have been from spending too much time in the cursed mist. It seemed to have satisfied Arthur... for now. He hadn't used any magic since then, but he sensed the change in him. When he felt magic stir in him, it was like a tingling feeling in his fingertips. Now, however, it was more like his nerves were more sensitive, and his whole body felt like that, even when he was not thinking about magic. Was he more powerful? Not necessarily, despite Gaius' story on Cornelius Sigan. Yet Merlin definitely felt... different. It was the only way he could describe it, and he had read through the book containing information on The Stone of Inobscurity time and time again, but Gaius had explained it all. Merlin felt like he was going to read something between the ancient, uneven lines, but he knew deep down that there was nothing else to be seen. Only Kilgharrah would know more. There had been no opportunities to call on the Dragon so far, until this evening.

Merlin kept the necklace with the clear stone around his neck, as a reminder that he was not himself and he would only be whole once more when the stone was filled with blue once again. There wasn't much change to him apart from his eyes, but Merlin was aware of a physical change to him. He felt stronger, faster, and more aware of his surroundings. It was not a noticeable change to anyone else, but it was a difference, and that could not bode well.

After another hard day's work, Merlin sat down at the table while nursing a sore back he'd earned after lifting the entire Knight's training gear up from the grounds back into the armoury, which was on the second floor. It had taken him less time than usual, but the pain was still there. He found it funny that being thrown against a wall at breakneck speed hadn't hurt him a bit, but lugging armour about had done. The world was a funny place sometimes.

The sight of the grey hand reaching out towards him had given Merlin several restless nights, and Gaius had been at his side, prescribing him with various potions and ingredients. None of them had made any difference. Every other night, the same vision returned to him, and in the latest one the hand had actually managed to grab hold of him. Falling asleep after that had been nigh on impossible, so Merlin decided to take a walk to clear his head.

Waking up for Arthur's chores was a lot easier than previously, and Merlin was pleasantly surprised to walk out onto an early sunrise, even though he couldn't see the sun. He knew it was there, though. The eastern rise had been blocked out by a colossal monument, which looked out of place and would remain there long after Camelot was destroyed.

An absolutely gigantic chunk of rock towered over Camelot, making the once grand city look feeble and tiny in its wake. It completely dwarfed Camelot, the stone rising over a league into the sky. Across, it was roughly ten leagues, cutting out the entire of the eastern skyline. It was only until mid-afternoon when the sun finally managed to creep over the top of the dead star, and fell back below it only minutes later. It was like winter again, but just warmer and even shorter days. The sight of the monstrosity never failed to take Merlin's breath away, every single time he saw it. He had to crane his neck to see the top of it, even when was on the battlements! There was no need for an eastern watchtower now, so all the Knights received a little extra free time, and Morgana and Morgause would be forced to enter Camelot from only three directions now. Merlin smiled unwarily at this, and continued down to the eastern gate, which was no longer guarded. When he reached the great doors, which would no longer be required, he swung them wide open, concentrating hard on making no noise, and continued towards the star. He and Arthur had checked it out straight after the smoke had subsided and vanished. It had cut deep into the ground; so far that even torchlight would not pierce the depths of the dark descent. It was only a foot or so in width, but at some points it was more than that so there was always the danger of falling down. In time it would be Merlin's job, among others, to fence off those dangerous points so it no longer posed a threat to the citizens.

Merlin did not go straight towards the enormous chunk of rock. Instead, he walked south along the base of the walls of Camelot, keeping an eye out for guards who might deem him suspicious, and open fire on him. Almost like an instinct, his eyes grew accustomed to the dark and the world turned into blue once more. After several days of thought Merlin's only theory on this new sight was that it detected heat... somehow. How though? Was magic even capable of that? He had never heard of anything like it before, and neither had Gaius. If the Dragon failed to come up with answer, Merlin may have discovered a completely unique enchantment. What a thought that was.

A spacious clearing was ahead; the usual meeting place with Kilgharrah. It was well hidden from the battlements by thick, tall trees, whose leaves never died and provided constant visible protection all year round when Merlin needed the Dragon's assistance or invaluable information. Shadows flickered as if they had bodies of their own as a strong gust of wind swayed the ancient trees from side to side. Stars illuminated the pitch black sky brilliantly; it was a masterpiece of nature. The lights seemed to gaze down on their fallen brother sadly, as some of them appeared to flicker softly, turning on and off, before settling and burning their dots of light back down to the world. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but the stars did an excellent job of guiding Merlin to where he needed to be, as his vision returned to normal in a flicker of full bodied blue. His dark hair was swept away from his forehead when a huge gust of wind made his eye look up, with a knowing smile on his dry lips. He was here.

The outline of the Great Dragon was right above him, as the great sight settled in front of Merlin, the vast wings folding inwards. Permanently golden eyes proved how powerfully connected to magic Kilgharrah really was, and that wave of awesome energy which always preceded his wise, timeless voice, washed over Merlin and he felt revitalised from the emanating power.

"Merlin, you seem troubled," The Dragon spoke, sarcasm tainted within the words "and that is not a regularly recurring predicament."

"I need-"

"-my help; I know. You want to know why this star has fallen, and what it means for Camelot? You do, but I sense there is something troubling you even more. Well, I cannot stay near Camelot for long. Tell me your troubles, warlock."

"It is the Stone of Inobscurity. I put it around my neck, and, well... all I can say is that I haven't felt the same since."

The Dragon sighed deeply, and the disappointment in his voice was far from hidden "You have made a huge mistake, Merlin. I know you would do anything to protect Arthur, but you must look after yourself as well. What has Gaius told you about the Stone?"

"He said that it was created by the first High Priestess of the Old Religion."

"Gaius is wrong," The Dragon replied solemnly "and what I tell you know, you must promise not to repeat to any living soul, no matter what. Do you promise?"

"I promise," Merlin replied with raw simplicity, certain that it couldn't be worse than the last promise he had made to Kilgharrah.

"The Stone was not created by the first Priestess of the Old Religion... it was _found_ by her."

Merlin gulped, attempting to taking in what he had just heard.

"So who did create it?"

"Would it surprise you if I said-"

"-you don't know," Merlin finished the sentence, fear truly beginning to grip him now. If the Dragon did not know, then who would?

"No, I do not, but I know only of this due to the memories passed down from Dragon to Dragon. The Stone's power us utterly unique, and is the oldest artefact of the Old Religion."

"If it's the oldest, and is so different, is it possible that-"

"Merlin, that is preposterous, and I outright refuse to listen to such an idea! Put that foolish thought to rest and try to discover exactly where the stone was initially found. It was on the Isle of the Blessed, when those first members of an organised magical community were building the foundations for a castle. It must have been in the rock itself."

Merlin didn't know if the Dragon was aware that Isle of the Blessed was itself a fallen star and he decided against commenting on it. Instead, he searched for more answers.

"What is it doing to me?" Merlin asked, almost on the verge of dropping to his cold knees and begging for answers.

Kilghgarrah eyed Merlin "I am not entirely certain," Merlin groaned out loud "but it would seem that the stone's power has entered your body. Your magic is changing, as well as your actual body. What differences have you noticed?"

"I don't need incantations... I don't even need to think about using magic! It's like a raw instinct, and my mind is automatically reacting to things without me even thinking about it. I can see in the dark by picking up heat, my body has lost all of its warmth and my eyes have changed. What does it all mean?" Desperation filled Merlin's words and even he felt it as he spoke. A tear may have crept down his starlit cheek, but he seemed incapable of showing true remorse. Another change.

"It means that the stone is changing you, and that means the great destiny that is meant for you is in danger. I will have to return to the homeland of the Dragons and I will try to find more information to help you. For now, fight the power within you or it will take you over, Merlin, and once it does, there is no turning back from what you will become!" Kilgharrah's mighty wings sprung open and in a flurry of movement, he threw himself into the air, the downwind nearly taking a rooted Merlin off his feet. He had looked to the Dragon for reassurance and help. Had there been any blank spaces in his mind before his visit to the Dragon, they were now filled with regret and fear. Like cracks in a stone, regret and fear grew, widening until... snap. His mind was going to break, and if that did, Merlin could become even worse than the sorcerer he had fought against so many years ago. For now, he was helpless to a magic which, could he even dare say it, was beyond the Old Religion. Kilgharrah denied it but Merlin had been sharp enough to notice the doubt and fear in those ancient eyes. Perhaps there were things that even one thousand year old creatures were not meant to know.

Merlin was left in the twilight-flooded clearing, his eyes boring emptily into the star which had caused what could be the undoing of him, Arthur, Camelot, and even his enemies. The cold night felt a thousand times worse when fear stroked your tingling spine, and the trees whispered constantly behind your back. Merlin had always felt different from everyone else, but now he felt like his own magic, his old magic, _his_ magic, was leaving him. How could he protect Arthur and fulfil his destiny while having to worry about protecting Arthur from himself? No, he couldn't leave Camelot, but if he stayed could he end up killing Arthur?

On the way back to Camelot, Merlin noticed an armed escort travelling towards the north gate, but they looked like they were in some trouble. Further into the darkness, outlines of men on horseback were wielding sword, catching up fast on the cart, which undoubtedly carried either nobles or gold. Either way, Merlin ran as fast he could towards the potential disaster, certain his new magic would be able to do some good.

* * *

In the village of Ederton, which was a league west of Camelot, a travelling merchant was relieving himself near a thorn bush. It wasn't the best place to do such a thing, but he didn't want any prying eyes from early risers to chase him with a broom back to his cart. He'd spent the night before in the local tavern, which was full of inquisitive and fascinated visitors; all transfixed by the monstrous mountain that had settled next to Camelot. All the merchant cared about was gold, and the market would be thriving from the number of visitors. It was a perfect time to sell his wares; knives. Reports of missing people had spread a wave of panic among all who were simple enough to be convinced by a single rumour. They'd be looking for some kind of protection, and he was willing to sell some 'special wares' as well. These included magical bracelets which could make you vanish from the spot, hiding you from enemies. He also claimed that they could transport you instantly from one place to another, but that was just a lie. In all honesty, if people had disappeared in the mist, they were invisible anyway, and that hadn't done any of them any good. Camelot was the centre of the anti-magic regime in Europe, but he didn't care. Money was all he lived for; it was worth the risk.

As he pulled up his trousers, something in the darkness of the nearby woodland caused his eyes to narrow. Something was stirring in there, and a strange noise emerged, like the sound of metal moving against each other smoothly. The merchant then froze as blue eyes, as intense as an inferno, bore into his own.

"What the-"

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed that; it was only really a filler in as Morgana and Morgause are now at Camelot's doorstep, very well disguised :D Please R&R! And thanks!**


	6. Infiltrating the Court

**A HUGE thanks to _Haley-Renee_, jaqtkd, _Jissai_, and TaintedxIllusion for reviewing the Last Chapter. :D I don't personally know what to think of this chapter. Sometimes I see it as a filler-in, but sometimes it's like an opener to a new part. Either way, it's a build up to the chapter after, where some of your questions may be answered.**

* * *

Merlin rushed towards the inevitable outbreak of violence at a blistering pace, and as he neared the northern gate, it was burst open and a flurry of red capes on horseback poured out of the castle. The bandits, however, did not turn back, and the warlock realised why. More figures emerged from the distant darkness of the surrounding forests, and soon it became clear that the attack was more than just a raiding party. There were at least fifty insurgents here, and the number of knights suddenly felt a lot more insignificant; there were only a dozen. They would still need Merlin' help and it was the perfect time to stretch his newfound power to its limits... if it had any.

Arthur wasn't among the knights, for which Merlin was sincerely thankful. Leon, Elyan, Gwaine and Lancelot were all there, and Percival quickly followed. Dust, barely visible in the light available, rose up into the air, but Merlin did not cough as he followed in the wake of the Knights of Camelot. The cloudy air gave him some cover as tried to get under the cart without being detected. That way he could cast spells without being noticed. However, as he neared the dusty path, and the air cleared out before him, it was obvious that he was too late. Steel clashed with steel as the knights took the fight to the bandits; the front of the line barely paces from the cart. Two unfamiliar ladies were being led out of the cart by Lancelot, and guided towards the city. Merlin saw the danger coming before it even played out in front of him.

A bald headed, leanly built bandit broke through the line of red capes, taking down a Knight Merlin did not know by name. He flicked his sword deftly in the air, caught it, and holding it like a spear; he threw it in the direction of one of the noblewomen. Merlin felt the world slow down, and his eyes clouded over as he felt himself become weightless.

When he opened his eyes, he was not looking through his line of vision, but instead his eyes were looking over the blade, from the pommel. The sword pierced the air as it arced gently upwards, passing fighting infantry and bleeding, dying men. The surface of the rough metal shone for an instant as it reflected off the light from a nearby torch, the nicks in the blade evident. It then inevitably travelled back towards the ground, and then it went to go right through the head of the taller of the two women. However, Merlin had other ideas.

The sword did travel through her head, but instead of piercing it, it merely vanished through in a blur of uncommon, subtle blue light, as if it had just gone through a portal right in front of the woman's face. Merlin's eyes momentarily turned cloudy again and he returned to his normal vision, before his eyes bulged out of their sockets. He watched in awe as a flash of a phenomenal blue streak appeared several hundred feet or so behind the bandit responsible for the throw. It coursed across the air at a terrifying speed; so fast that even the ear-popping sound coming off the thing could not keep up with it. It hit the back of the bandit's head and sent him flying off his horse, straight through the cart, and crashing to the ground a hundred feet or so after it. All present shared one thing in common; jaws dropping towards the ground. For a second or so, all fell silent and momentarily stopped fighting, before the regular noise of struggle resumed across the land. Lancelot was left shielding the two ladies, who themselves looked utterly petrified. Next to them was what had once been a cart, but all that remained was the base of it, the horses, and the charred body frame, which was still smoking. Merlin was rooted to the spot, in absolute awe of what he had just done. Wow, that had been something.

Yet the battle was still not over. He had only killed one man. Yes, in spectacular fashion, but no one was allowed to know that, not even Lancelot, who was already aware of his gifts. That kind of power was just frightening. It was raw, unrefined, _powerful_ magic. Kilgharrah had read Merlin's mind and dismissed the notion growing in his head, but after this it made more sense. Still though, that was a thought for another time, preferably when he wasn't in the middle of a bloodbath.

Merlin neared the chaos, reaching the point where the poor bandit had finally laid to rest. It was the sword! The same sword he had prevented killing that woman had moved backwards, coming out at another point with Merlin's newfound magical prowess. He grimaced as he pulled the sword out, and nearly heaved when blood spattered across his face. War was never a pleasant thing, no matter how great the victory or just the cause. The sword felt unbelievably light in his hand; it felt no heavier than the golden goblet he filled everyday with wine or water for Arthur. The scratches were stained with blood, but the lump of iron felt like it was meant to be in Merlin's hand, and before he even knew it he had disarmed and slashed open a Bandits' throat in one single, blurry move. The blood that soaked the ground had been spilt by Merlin; he had killed other men before, but this felt different. Even Arthur would have struggled to pull off a move like that; did this stone improve a man's power in all aspects of his life, as well as magical? Merlin hoped not; it would be even more difficult to keep his magic a secret! It had been hard enough beforehand!

Lancelot was in some trouble; he had to protect both ladies as well as fending off three eager bandits. He took down one, but another evaded his sword and went to finish off both ladies in one fell swoop, but Merlin intervened, his blade halting the other, and the huge man's muscles bulged as he attempted to force Merlin's arm down, but the warlock wasn't even breaking sweat. By the time he had permitted the bandit a change to swing downwards to his head, the brute had a sword sticking out from the side of his neck. He crashed to the ground, defeated and covered in red dust. Merlin glanced over to the two women. They looked positively terrified of the atrocities carried out before them, as the foreign invaders finally gave in, and the remaining survivors retreated back into the dark recesses of the harsh north. Those who were injured were granted no mercy and the sound of slit throats and inaudible screams filled the stench that could barely be called air. Merlin looked away from it all, his normally grinning face covered in blood and spoilt by a look of disdain. His changed eyes scanned the horizon for survivors to finish to off... hold on, why would he even want to do that? That was not him! Merlin threw the sword to the ground, squeezing his temples in an attempt to think straight. The sound of a discarded, jarring blade caused Lancelot to turn around.

"Merlin, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. I thought I would help." Merlin tried to grin, but he couldn't even pull off a queasy one.

Lancelot's eyes looked the blood on Merlin's face, then to fallen bandit, and finally resting on the two women, the older of whom had protected the younger one in an embrace, keeping her eyes from the visible horrors that lay waste to the green plains.

"Well, I know many things about you, but I did not realise you were handy with a sword." Lancelot managed a swift grin, before moving over and addressing the visitors.

"My ladies, I apologise for the lateness of our arrival. I trust you are both uninjured and well?"

The older woman nodded curtly "I am the Lady Abelena, and this is my cousin Rosalia. The King is expecting us."

The names seemed to be familiar with Lancelot "You are the daughter of Sir Ewan? It's an honour to meet you." He gave a chivalrous bow.

The one named Abelena merely nodded, but the younger lady turned away from her shoulder and looked Lancelot in the eye, and hers were wet with tears.

"Thank you so much," she said softly, Lancelot in awe of her beauty. Even Merlin admitted she was very attractive, and he was not normally one to succumb to looks... even more so now. It was only after a short while that he realised Rosalia had directed her thanks to him as well. He attempted a bow and a daft grin grew on his face before Lancelot cut it short. Now that _was_ him shining through.

"Do you have any idea what that was?" Lancelot directed his question to Merlin, although the two noblewomen were also present.

"No," Merlin lied, knowing that the Knight was placing a hidden query as to whether it was him behind it. Merlin tried to return the answer within his own, making it clear he had nothing to do with it. Lancelot seemed to get the message and nodded in understanding.

"I've seen plenty of magic before, but that was quite something," Lancelot remarked, scanning the destruction of what could have been the most powerful piece of magic Merlin had pulled off in some time. He'd only harboured this gift for a week or so; what would he be capable of when he discovered the true capability of this talent?

"So have I, Sir Lancelot, so have I. I've seen Cornelius Sigan, Nimueh, and Morguase cast magic, and yet I doubt any of them could have done what I just saw." If the tale Gaius had told him was true, then the first sorcerer Merlin had named probably could have done, but he wasn't willing to share any of that information with anyone, even someone who knew he had magic anyway.

"Indeed." The other knights had assembled around the four of them, except for those who were transporting the injured back to Camelot for treatment. Gaius would have a very early awakening today. Only a handful of horses had been injured or killed, so there were plenty to go around. However, some would have to go back on foot, and this offered the perfect opportunity for Merlin and Lancelot to discuss the events that had just panned out before them. Yet it would seem Rosalia had other ideas.

"Come, cousin, take a horse," Abelena said, her unusually large –for a lady anyway- feet settling into the saddle of a black stallion.

"Go ahead, Abelena, I would like to speak to our saviours. I will meet you in the castle."

The look on Abelena's face was that of disgust. Noblewomen should never walk. She left in a huff, galloping at full speed to the castle, leaving a trail of airborne dust behind.

Several Knights strapped the ladies chest's onto a mule and led it back towards the northern gate. More red caped men galloped past, Sir Leon among them, his face almost unrecognisable in a layer of darkened, drying blood. Percival's normally rosy cheeks were pale as chalk as he held tightly onto a bleeding wound on his left upper arm. Despite the victory, there were no cheers or slapping each other's backs. Men had died today; it had not been a complete victory, or a triumph, as one would normally say. Merlin looked around, desperately trying to seek out Gwaine and Elyan, and but there was no sign of either of them. His mind was filled with worry for them, and only the voice of a woman as beautiful as Rosalia could have snapped him out of it, which it did.

"May I ask upon your names?"

"I am Lancelot, a Knight of Camelot. You are safe now; no one will dare harm you here."

She smiled widely, her rosy, plump cheeks brightening her eyes even further. Lancelot and Merlin had to slow their pace for her little legs to keep up.

"I'm Merlin," he said simply, arms outstretched in a gesture of 'this is it' "and I'm Prince Arthur's manservant-"

"Not that you'd know it!"

Merlin threw a soft, friendly punch into Lancelot's side, and Rosalia seemed amused by the manly banter.

"All I do is clean up after one of the most important men in the Kingdom. Unfortunately for me, he just happens to be untidiest man in court! He can't tell the difference between a shirt and a pair of trousers, and I swear he's the most reckless man I know! But I'd die for him... without a moment's hesitation." Lancelot gave Merlin a stiff nod, the two men sharing that in common.

"What sort of jobs do you do for Arthur, then?" Rosalia appeared genuinely interested. It was only a first, fleeting impression, but to Merlin she could be the most innocent soul he had ever encountered, perhaps even more so than Gwen.

"Well, for starters I have to keep his chambers constantly tidy, which is much harder than it sounds. He may leave countless enemies dead in his wake, but in his chambers all he leaves behind is a mess. Then there's mending and polishing his armour and swords, serving him breakfast and dinner, keeping his wine goblet full, making his bed, scrubbing the floors, mucking out his stables, grooming his horses, and... well, emptying the chamber pot."

"Mention the best one till the last, hey?" Lancelot grimaced at the thought of having to carry a pot full of... well, does it really need explaining or naming?

"That's not the worse part. Going on suicidal, one in a million chances in succeeding missions is fun, but I was hoping to live till I was old and grey with a huge beard that reaches to the floor! At this rate...well, who knows?"

"Have you ever been to Camelot before, my lady?" Lancelot asked, hoping to brighten the conversation. Merlin could be a bit depressing sometimes, but in a remotely humorous way.

"I have never left my home and the land around it, save for when I went to Mercia once when I was a child. I don't remember it that well; I never had any desire to leave home. Of course, now my cousin and I have no choice. I will not hide it; I am scared." For a moment Merlin thought Rosalia was going to cry, but she managed to somehow hold in the potential tears. What a brave girl.

"Well you need not worry now. You are safe here," Merlin said, fully confident in what he was promising. There was nowhere safer than the citadel in Camelot. It had only once been overrun, and that was by an immortal army. He couldn't see one of those turning up on Camelot's doorstep anytime soon.

* * *

The Throne Room...

The centre of Camelot's power and pinnacle society was the Throne Room. This was where all the difficult and important decisions were made, and this was where the King, Uther Pendragon, addressed or received information on matters of importance, whether it was personal to himself, or the entire Kingdom. It was also where he greeted passing nobles. The other, larger throne room was when addressing audiences from the people. It was a moderately sized room, with two plump, strong pillars on each side, supporting the heavy stoned roof. Windows permitted sunlight to enter the gaps in between the pillars, but of course, recent events had dimmed the atmosphere of the room, both literally and figuratively.

Uther sat on his gilded throne, a full goblet of wine in one hand, whereas the other was gripping the side of the throne nervously. Recently the King had been ever more wary of magic of late, after Morgana's terrible betrayal. The thought of her cut through his heart; his own daughter had let him rot in a cell for what felt like years, even though it had barely been for two weeks. Half of Uther still refused to believe she had been so cruel; perhaps Morgause had enchanted her to do her bidding. No, that wasn't possible! He damned the two women to the edges of eternity, but if he ever faced Morgana again, he probably still wouldn't be able to kill her. She was his daughter, after all. Even the ruthless Uther Pendragon would not be able to commit Filicide; he was many things, but evil was not one of them. Magic was evil, and corrupted to the core, but he was not, and that was the major difference between the two.

Uther was not alone; the throne room was tightly packed with numerous individuals, nearly every single one of them nobles, with the exception of a servant or two and four guards; two behind him and two at the door. Those present all had torch lit anxious expressions, their faces orange in the wake of the burning brackets on the walls. There was a space between the King and the others; no one was now allowed within twenty paces of the King; his own daughter's betrayal had sent Uther paranoid, and anyone could be next on the executioner's block.

The heavy doors were heaved open by the two strong guards, and Arthur stepped forward, closely followed by two dishevelled noblewomen. Uther instantly recognised one of them, and waved his son aside, allowing the visitors to come closer.

"Lady Abelena," Uther hastily rose from his throne and embraced the tall women "it has been too long!"

Abelena rarely gave out smiles, but she readily gave them out to someone as important and kind as the King of Camelot. "My King, this is my cousin, Rosalia. You knew her father as well as mine did you not?"

Uther would have looked over her shoulder, but considering Abelena was that tall, he had to move to the side, and he beckoned the younger woman over. He had never seen Rosalia before, but he had been told that she was barely twenty years of age, but she appeared even younger. Rumours had always filtered their way into the bustling capital of the Kingdom, and talk of a woman as beautiful as Morgana, if not even more so, had nearly sent Uther laughing, and he couldn't wait to see the look on his ward's face. Yet Morgana didn't seem to be bothered; little did he realise back then she had more troubling things on her mind, like how to successfully kill him. Uther normally had to swallow his pride, but it was pain that he fought to keep from the surface. This was a new era for both Camelot, and himself.

With his daughter no longer a citizen of Camelot, this 'Rosalia' may well be now the most beautiful lady in the land. Her flowing, wavy blonde hair, which was unspoilt in tone or texture, would have shone like a halo in the golden sunlight, had it not been for that cursed, towering rock. Piercing emerald eyes were balanced out by rounded, rosy cheeks, and flawlessly smooth skin. She probably had one of those smiles that beautified her face further, and Uther didn't have to watch them to know that half of his knights were enchanted... not particularly the best choice of word.

"Lady Rosalia, welcome to Camelot. I met your father on several occasions, he was a brave man."

Rosalia bowed, smiling at the mention of her father's name. Uther had been right; the smile had lit up her features yet further. He'd be very surprised if Abelena wasn't jealous of her cousin's beauty. None of the Knights were looking at her... not yet, anyway.

"You will both be safe here. We will send out a detachment tomorrow to check on Arberton. Rest assured the bandits will not be foolish enough to venture that far." He tried to give out a reassuring smile, but Uther always found that difficult, even if he genuinely meant it.

"Leave us." The King signalled for all present to leave, save the two new residents at Camelot, and, of course, his guards. He went nowhere without them.

"It would by honour for you two ladies to dine with me in the evening. You must be famished."

"I would be inclined to accept your kind offer, sire," Abelena said graciously "although I may struggle to work out when the evening arrives." Her head tilted over to the darkened view.

Uther grimaced softly "I will not try to dampen your already hindered spirits, but the Kingdom is under attack. People have gone missing... a lot of people."

"Is it the same people who invaded Camelot a few months ago?" Rosalia asked innocently.

"No," Uther replied "at least I don't think so. It isn't Morgause's style to abduct people, nor to take them while under the cover of mist." He gazed darkly out at the looming mass before him "Since that star fell from the sky, everything has gone downhill. Rumours are eating away at my people's hopes and fuelling their fears endlessly."

He turned back to his guests "However, you need not worry. The citadel is the safest place to be; no harm can reach you in these walls. Now, as far as I know, there's a servant on the way to show you to your chambers. I've made sure you have the finest rooms." Abelena tilted her head in respectable acknowledgement, as the doors were opened and a familiar figure stepped.

"This is Merlin," Uther waved an arm in the boy's general direction "he is Prince Arthur's manservant, and has served my son... admirably, in the last few years. He will tend to your needs; anything you desire, whether it is from the kitchens or the market, just tell him what to do."

The expressions from the cousins couldn't have been any different. Abelena's disdain was far from hidden, whereas Rosalia positively beamed at the sight of the manservant.

"This man saved my life!" Rosalia exclaimed excitedly, and Abelena looked like she wanted to be swallowed up by the earth.

"Is this true?" Uther asked amusedly. How could a scrawny servant like Merlin save someone's life in battle?

"He killed a bandit just before he was about to kill me!"

Abelena nodded carelessly "I suppose... he did, yes."

"Hmmm...," Uther mused, wondering what to do in such an unusual situation "you will be rewarded for this, Merlin. For now, attend to these ladies' needs."

Merlin looked truly taken aback, his eyes wide with shock. He then tried to narrow them quickly, without appearing hostile. He bowed low, and turned back, guiding the two women out. The door clicked shut behind them, and Uther was left to wonder how Merlin had managed to defeat a bandit. Of course, he wasn't left to wonder for long.

* * *

Abelena and Rosalia's chambers...

The polished door opened smoothly, as Merlin showed Rosalia and Abelena their chambers. He was quietly surprised; both by Uther's threat of a reward, which could extend from a lot of gold, to a suspicious looking amphora of wine that no one wanted to drink. What also took him aback was that these chambers were even grander than Arthur's. Then again, that meant twice as much work. At least one of his new mistresses seemed to like and respect him, and not treat him like horse muck. Then again, the other one did.

In normal circumstances, white sunlight would have flooded through the tall, generous windows, which looked out onto the courtyard. However, in this lack of natural light, dozens of candles had been placed on tables, bedside cabinets, and window ledges. The dancing, fingernail size lights gave the room an eerie feel to it, and for a moment it reminded Merlin of that dreadful sight where Arthur had seen his mother for the first time... had it even been his Ygraine? Merlin had claimed to Arthur that it was a trick, to stop him from killing Uther, but hand on his heart; he had no idea whether it was an illusion or reality. Merlin wanted to believe Morgause was not another revenge-bent sorceress. It turned out she was, but that didn't mean it was definitely a trick, did it?

The dark, mahogany furniture and carved bed posters were barely brightened by the candlelight, and Merlin turned back to face his new mistresses.

"I know it's not much, but-"

"It's amazing!" Rosalia rushed past him and a half-frozen smile stuck on Merlin's face. She wove in and out of the various tables and chairs, probably not used to such grandeur, despite her status as a noblewoman.

"Thank you for showing us to our chambers. You may leave us now till we ask of you again." Abelena set out her warning tone, more to her cousin than Merlin, so he merely went to bow out of the room, but Rosalia caught him.

"I owe you my life; I won't forget." Her flushed cheeks grew even redder as she giggled and closed the door. Merlin, with an admittedly stupid grin on his face, turned and walked down the torch lit corridors, knowing the knights would have killed for that laugh to be aimed in their direction.

Back in the room, with their acts now no longer required for the time being, Morgause relaxed as she slumped in the closest chair, glugging wine into the largest goblet she could find.

"He has gone."

"Can we change back now, just for a moment? This tall body is most uncomfortable!"

"No, sister, it is too dangerous! Unfortunately we cannot compromise our plot just to make you feel better."

"You mean I have to stay like this for months?" Morgana slouched grumpily, and threw herself onto one of the two elaborately carved four poster beds.

"Yes, sister, although you must remember you are not alone as you drown in your misery; so must I." Morgause smirked in the dim yellow light.

"Well, nothing has really changed," Morgana said, sounding like she was about to fall asleep "Arthur still walks like a troll on stilts, and Uther is still an oblivious fool. Like father, like son. As for Merlin, he seems quite taken by you."

Morgause smirked yet again, knowing Morgana could not see her face. It had all been part of her plan to be the more attractive of the two guises; the look on Morgana's face had been priceless when all heads had turned... but not in her direction. Morgause couldn't care less about the male attraction thrown in her direction, but she had to act like she did. Merlin would be easy to ensnare, and then her next target would be the very knight who had been fighting to protect her... Lancelot? What an unusual name... then again, Morgause had met a man with a strange, alien name before, and he had been the most fascinating man she had ever met. Her thoughts automatically switched to something else; the mind tended to do that when attempting to forget something that still hurt, even after all these years.

"What happened, at the battle, sister?" The fear in Morgana's voice hurt her sister. "I've never seen anything like it before. It was terrifying!"

"Nor have I, dear sister, and you need not worry yourself over such matters. I must confess I found it most interesting, and, dare I say it, terrifying too." Morgause remembered the streak of blue light roaring across the sky, the sound breaking the air in two as it threw a man from one end of the battlefield to another. It was a fascinating event, but no distractions could pry Morgause away from her current plan.

"Nonetheless, will continue our new court life, until Uther trusts us enough to spend time in a room with one of us alone, and that includes without his guards."

"That will take time; you see how paranoid he has become-"

"What would you expect; his own daughter turned against him."

"He deserved nothing more," Morgana snarled nastily, having already changed into her nightdress "and I suggest you get some sleep, sister. Clearly you will have a lot of flirting to do later."

"It isn't even nightfall. Is it not supposed to be sunrise?"

"Does it matter; there's talk that Camelot only sees the sun at Midday onwards. This place was shrouded in mist, and now darkness. Whoever is responsible for the missing people, we should thank them."

"Somehow," Morgause replied, gazing up at the monstrous sight over Camelot "I do not think they would care for our thanks."

* * *

Arthur's Chambers...

Merlin was minding his own business, surrounded by candles while polishing Arthur's sword, when the Prince stepped through, a mixture of disbelief and anger all over his face... oh god, what had he done wrong this time...

"Is it true, Merlin, that you saved the Lady Rosalia's life?"

"Erm... yes," Merlin replied meekly, his eyes darting from the sword to the Prince, rather quickly.

"Apparently you out strengthened an absolute monster of a man, and then split his neck." Arthur looked down on him, his own eyes wide with astonishment.

"Clearly one of my knights had a very late night."

"Clearly," Merlin said, his mind letting out a metaphorical sigh of relief.

"Nonetheless, I am thankful for what you did out there. It was very noble of you, despite the fact you're not... noble."

Merlin tried his best not to frown, but it was terribly difficult "Thank you, sire, although the question begs to be asked; why were you not at the battle?"

"Because," Arthur said, walking over to grab a pillow "the idiot who was meant to wake me up was stuck in a tavern all night!" He smacked the feather-stuffed pillow over Merlin's head with full force. "I presume that is where you were; am I right?"

"Yes," Merlin lied, horribly easily "I needed a drink or two to take a few things off my mind."

"What were you on... cider?"

"No, wine actually."

"Really?" Arthur frowned strangely "You never struck me as a wine kind of person."

"Please, enlighten me, what is a 'wine kind of person'?"

"I don't know," Arthur shrugged loosely "someone who doesn't dress like they've been hurled through a clothes stall, and landed in a pile of horse dung at the other end?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Merlin said humourlessly, scraping the flint stone sharply across the side of the blade, causing a single spark to be born from his anger. It quickly died out, but Merlin kept seeing it in his mind. He was rarely that angry. Had that even been Merlin?

"You are definitely a wine person, sire." Merlin tried to steer away from further suspicion.

"Why, because I am a noble?"

"No, because there's not a single day that goes by where I don't hear you whining about something!"

"That... was... terrible," Arthur said, right next Merlin's ear, and another blow from the pillow hit him from the side.

"Yes, I know," Merlin said to himself, putting the flint stone back in his pocket. The door burst open, and Gwaine stepped through, looking rather bustled.

"You're needed in the throne room, Arthur."

The Prince sighed, throwing down his night clothes "Will this ever end?"

Merlin stood up, looking at Arthur straight in the face "No, not really," he answered simply, gesturing for his master to go ahead of him to where they were needed.

* * *

The Throne Room...

After Merlin and Arthur passed through the high double doors, they were tightly shut. All Knights were present, but no nobles, and to Merlin this meant one thing, and one thing alone... Trouble.

Uther sat on his throne, his gaunt cheeks evidence of the stress he was under. It seemed the latest news had taken the air out of his lungs. The man looked half dead.

A letter was handed over to Arthur, as the King currently seemed incapable of direct speech, let alone orders. The Prince's face turned white chalk as his eyes widened the further they went down the scrawny piece of parchment. When he had finished, his hands were shaking, and he almost threw the parchment into the darkness.

"Dear god," Arthur muttered emptily, turning to leave. The Knights followed suit, and Merlin was left completely abandoned and bewildered. He dared to raise his voice in this privileged place.

"Arthur, what is it?"

The Knights stopped, and so did Prince Arthur. He looked into Merlin's eyes, and, for one of the first times in his life, the young warlock saw something in those eyes. It was not uncertainty, or sorrow, or hatred, or love. It was not even fear. It was _terror_.

"Merlin, get the horses," Arthur managed to say, the words barely escaping his mouth "and do yourself a favour. Write to your mother."

* * *

**I do have a terrible tendency of ending on a cliffhanger, but I don't think that really is a cliffhanger. It's just a tension builder, with a bit of mystery thrown in... oh all right it might be a cliffhanger then :P Thanks for reading and R&R if you wish!**


	7. Chasing Shadows

**Thanks to _Cawm_, Haley-Renee, _Jissai_, and Ava Pearce for their reviews on the last chapter. It didn't take me that long to write this, so I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

The corridors of the castle had fallen into a precarious balance of chaos, and calm order. Guards were running here and there, some even shouting out, complaining that they had to go and check on their families, who lived in northern villages. Servants were in a similar state, and Merlin was no exception. His feet felt like solid lead as weaved in and out of the panicking faces and rushing feet, the only thing keeping him going was the determination to catch up with Arthur and ask him what the hell was going on. The look on his friend's face foretold terrible news, probably not even worth hearing, but when the Prince had mentioned his mother, Merlin had entered panic mode, and there was no bringing him out of that quickly.

By the time he had reached the courtyard, chaos had succeeded in battle over order. Carts were overturned as a throng of servants, guards, and even one or two noblemen pushed itself through the tightly packed area, all of them funnelling out of the drawbridge. Knights were barking orders to one another from the battlements, sending the message down to the city gates, to keep them firmly shut. In the masses wake, carts lay on their side, their contents strewn all over a lifeless courtyard, the echoes of the panicking mob drifting back through from the arched tunnel to the drawbridge. One or two terrified people sprinted past Merlin, desperate to join the growing mass of people in the city streets, all desperate to check that their families were safe. Merlin couldn't blame them; half of him wanted to run down with them and go all the way to Ealdor, which must be about twenty leagues away. Then again, what was the point; she was probably dead already-

Merlin fell to his knees, squeezing the sides of his head, in a silent attempt to drown out the terrible thoughts that were somehow leaking into his mind, corroding who and what he was. His head banged onto the floor as he collapsed, his eyes perceiving the cobbled floor as vertical, when an apple rolled past. That was when Merlin realised he had been like this before, when the soul of Cornelius Sigan had taken over his body, and very nearly killed him. Despite the Dragon's extremely powerful incantation, the sorcerer had still managed to take Merlin over, even if only for a short while... and that was _without_ the stone's power. He shivered, as if a gust of biting wind had funnelled down the tunnel and into the courtyard, but it had not. His body had turned cold, and his heart soon would, if he couldn't do anything about it-

"Merlin," Arthur asked, frowning from the sight of Merlin curled up in a ball "is everything all right?"

The warlock scrambled slowly to his feet, dusting off his clothes and pretending to nurse his head "Fine, I just got hit by one of those... people."

"Let's take a look." Merlin nearly fell over again when Arthur went to inspect his head. His soft blue eyes found nothing and nodded. "You're ok, now let's go."

It all made sense when Merlin realised that none of the Knights were here yet; Arthur wouldn't have done that otherwise. This was also an opportune to find out what was in that letter.

"Arthur, please, tell me what is going on."

The Prince looked around the dark courtyard for any possible eavesdroppers, and when he was satisfied, he still only spoke out in a whisper.

"The people are partially aware of what is going on, but they don't realise the magnitude of the problem. They believe the northern borders were overrun by bandits."

"Have they?"

"No, it was a fake rumour to act as a distraction."

"A distraction for what?"

"It's a distraction for us so we can slip silently out of the west gate and find out what is really going on."

"Which is?"

"I don't know," Arthur hissed angrily "all I am aware of is that a village called Ederton has been completely abandoned, without a single trace of violence or a struggle. One man was found running out of a nearby forest. He was that terrified he died of shock the moment he got out. There were strange writings all over his body; it's being taken back to the city as we speak. Gaius is to examine the body and make a conclusion. I am personally convinced it is linked with the star."

Merlin gulped noisily. That didn't sound good at all. "Is there anything else I need to know before I go out and risk my life for you again?"

Arthur managed a half-hearted grin, but it quickly vanished as he continued "Yes, there is more. There was an explosion in the forest, and there's a rumour of a beast inside, but I'm not too sure about that. If for once, rumours turn out to be true, this is for you." Arthur withdrew a sword; one he normally carried as a spare, but this time he handed it over to Merlin. The servant was humbled.

"I want to see if the rumours about you are true too," He smiled warily, moving away from Merlin and barking orders to his Knights, who had just arrived. Merlin held the sword in his hand, the balance perfect in his hand and its weight effortless to carry, lift, and strike. He'd never been handy with a blade before, but now he could probably take on Arthur in a fight.

It looked like all the Knights had been briefed before about what was really going on, and the normally uplifting Gwaine had shadows under his eyes, the usually jolly Percival was gritting his teeth. The tension could be felt, but Merlin didn't mind. He was not worried about himself anymore; it was Arthur and the Knights before him that needed protecting. If he could control this awesome power, Merlin could glorify and extend Arthur's already great destiny. Perhaps, together they could not just rule Albion, but the entire of Europe. Little did he realise he wasn't the only one with such power.

As the group of brave young men left, a gangly figure in the shadows turned and entered the darkness.

* * *

Morgana and Morgause's room...

"What do you mean 'you were spying on them'?"

Morgause was ruffled by her sister's latest attempts to impress her. Morgana was a very intelligent woman, but even intellectually bright people could be fools. A delicate balance of intelligence and common sense would be required in order to succeed, and the younger sister needed reminding of who made the important decisions.

"I thought you would be impressed, sister," Morgana said haughtily "although clearly I have accidentally struck a nerve!"

"Do you not understand, sister? I thought you would, but clearly I was mistaken. Even you told me, that countless enemies walked into Camelot, certain that they could bring down Uther, Arthur, or both, almost instantly, without raising suspicion. They were all fools in that regard! We must not fall down that same trap; perseverance and patience will bring us victory-"

"I don't have the patience," Morgana hissed vehemently "I want Uther, Arthur, Merlin, and every single stinking knight... dead!"

"That kind of mindset will bring you only defeat and misery, sister. Now sit down and tell me what you overheard, and let us both calm down."

It had taken Morgause a huge amount of control to stop herself from verbally exploding. Morgana sat beside her, regret on her sharp new face.

"I'm sorry, sister. I only wanted to please you."

Morgause's tiny figure embraced Morgana's tall and thin one, and the two relaxed, both of them comfortable in each other's company.

"You may tell me what you heard, and see if there is anything we can do about it. I heard the panic from outside, so it must be of some importance."

"I heard Arthur speak to Merlin about the population of an entire village just disappear. No one knows what has happened to them, and there is no sign of an attack or violence."

"Anything else?"

"Reportedly a man was seen running out of a forest, screaming his lungs out, and covered in unusual writing. He died the moment he got out."

Morgause found this most interesting, and had it not been for the important mission at hand, she would have gone and investigated. Sadly, though, she was confined to the court.

"Do you know where the body is now?"

"It is being sent to Gaius."

"Perfect," Morgause permitted herself a smile "I can examine the body while it is in Gaius' courtroom."

"How are you going to get in without him noticing?"

"I won't. I shall ask Gaius for a cure to some illness I have, and while he fetches me a potion, I may examine the writings, and perhaps even translate a few words."

"Perfect indeed," Morgana smirked, raising a glass to Morgause. She replied warily, the two crystal glasses clinking softly in the candlelit escape.

* * *

Outside the Western gate of Camelot...

During the pinnacle of the sun's rise, its momentum barely lifted it above the towering rock that had rudely settled itself next to the sunlight-starved city. Luckily for the people, the star only smothered the eastern ascent, son when the sun moved southwards, it would finally manage to dodge the seemingly limitless heights of the rock, and warmth would reach the city and all the surrounding lands. Not yet, though.

A few rays were creeping over the top right corner of the almost-cylindrical shaped rock, and these shards of light hit Merlin in the eyes. He didn't squint, and was able to keep looking at them, before being forced to focus ahead on the changing landscape. He was beside Arthur, and two lines of red caped warriors were behind them, all armoured but none helmeted. Head protection was used during heavy attacks coming from one direction. In all honesty, none of them knew what to prepare for this time. Nonetheless, the creeps were tickling Merlin's spine, and from what he had heard, phenomena was gripping the Kingdom in terror. Fear of the unknown was always more terrifying that fear of the known. Merlin knew Morgana and Morgause had never got him this scared before.

All were silent as they passed the rolling green plains, the grass whistling softly in the midday breeze. A looming forest lay ahead of them, dark and unperturbed by the growing power of the sun. The soft sound of hooves plodding on lush, dewy grass reached Merlin's ears, as well as very distant shouting from Camelot behind him. As they neared the forest, Arthur signalled with his hand for the column to halt. He dismounted, and all the Knights followed suit, as well as Merlin. They all huddled together, right next to the edges of the dense, unwelcoming woodland.

"We will have to leave our horses here. Sir Caedmon, stay here and guard the horses. We'll be back in a few hours."

The youngest of the Knights, barely nineteen, nodded and gathered the reins of several horses, proceeding to tether them to an old oak tree, a fair few paces away from the main body of trees.

"Sire, surely we will need our horses. If we get attacked we will have no way of escape-"

Arthur cut Lancelot short "That is a risk we will have to take. Our horses will create too much noise, and because of the thickness of the trees, they will inadvertently slow us down. Now, gather as much food as you can. It will take us an hour to get to Ederton; it is just at the other side of this forest. Now, load crossbows, sheath swords. Be as quiet as you can, and keep your eyes peeled for any movement. Understood?"

They all nodded, ten in number, including the sometimes stubborn manservant. Merlin had to react and think quick when a crossbow was thrown in his direction. He scowled as a counter to Arthur's grin, and heftily lifted it in an expression of 'what is this for?'.

"You may be a servant, Merlin, but you are going to need to be a soldier today. I have no idea what lies ahead of us, so keep your weapons close to you; they might just save your life. We might not even need them. I don't know, just... be prepared for anything." Merlin received a manly clap on the shoulder, and he nodded inplain understanding. He'd be in positions like this before, although admittedly not many. This just felt an awful lot different; in the sense that he was already aware of an enemy he had to protect Arthur from... _Merlin_.

* * *

An Hour Later...

Shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy of lush green leaves and strong, supple branches, lighting up patches of ground, whether it be layers of rotting leaves, a grey rock covered in algae and moss, or hard, dry soil. The seducing, beautiful sound of birdsong reverberated throughout the forest; soft, yet high pitched tweets of a sparrow, or the loud caw from a crow, which made Merlin's eyes sharpen from the source of such a loud, sudden noise. He'd been in the forest a couple of times before, with Arthur, to hunt for deer or rabbit. It would be infamously remembered in his mind for when Arthur had killed a unicorn, and was forced to undergo several tasks to redeem himself. That had been at the northern part of this forest, where the ground was uneven and large, moss covered rocks created a maze like atmosphere. They were in the southern part of the forest now, where the land was fairly even, but the trees were denser.

Merlin was behind only Arthur and Lancelot, treading his feet carefully as to avoid any fallen branches, whose dry wood would snap loudly and then they would all be noticed. The peaceful atmosphere did not settle their warring nerves within, and Merlin's knuckles were white after gripping the crossbow so tightly for what felt like days. There was no visible proof of an explosion yet, and there were no tall hills or sharp inclines ahead that would mask the inevitable column of smoke that would rise high into the sky. There were no enormous, mysterious footprints in the ground, or any distant screeches or roars. The lack of both made Merlin feel even more uneasy for some strange reason; for all he knew they may well be falling into a very delicately planned trap.

The ground soon levelled out completely, and looking over Lancelot's crouched figure, Merlin saw a clearing a few hundred paces ahead. The trees were thinning out, and those here were a lot younger, most barely wider than Percival's strong arms. No leaves smothered the ground; only pine and a few acorns dotted the scene ahead. They all bent to their knees, eyes piercing the gaps through the sparse leaves. From what Merlin could see, there was a village, not much larger than Ealdor, ahead. There was no sign of movement, or noise, or even life. The place looked like a ghost village, and Merlin did not like it... he didn't like it at all. Even Arthur seemed unnerved, and as he turned to face them Merlin could see the uncertainty leaking from his eyes.

"Right, this is it, this is Ederton. There are about twenty houses, two stables, a farmhouse, a tavern, and an old temple shrine, dedicated to a Roman god. We will split into groups of two; Lancelot and Gwaine, Percival and Lancelot, Leon and Elyan, Drostan and Alynor. Merlin, you come with me. Search each house, one kick the door in, the other have your sword at the ready. Be ready for anything." Arthur drew his sword, which meant Merlin must have the job of kicking doors down. Great, something else for Arthur to laugh at when he barged a door and he would just fall to the ground.

They dispersed, travelling in pairs while rushing through the light woodlands' edge at a light jog, and breaking through onto the undisturbed clearing of grass, the sunlight warming their backs. Merlin kept close behind Arthur, his eyes subconsciously wary of any form of movement ahead of them. The beautiful weather, atmosphere, and land made it all the more suspicious and worrying. The two friends neared the back of a small house, not much smaller than Gwen's. There was no back door, so the two had to move around to the front of the hovel, which was made of timber, the roof was entirely thatched, with a small hole at the side for a chimney. Merlin waited for the other groups to assemble, and they had all chosen the smallest buildings first too, with the exception of Lancelot and Gwaine, the latter of the two who had ironically chosen to take on the tavern. They all looked across the village square at one another, which was an old, eroding roman column. Receiving firm nods from the others, Merlin grimaced and kicked in a door.

The force of the kick took the slab of wood clean off its rusty hinges, the door slamming to the ground in a flurry of rising dust, and a surprised Arthur ran into the house warily, sword held like a spear. As Merlin followed him, the noise of other barged in doors filled the once peaceful air, accompanied by a dreadful silence afterwards.

The house was dark and cool, with a breeze flowing in through the now permanently open door. Life here was lived to the bare minimum, as Merlin had been accustomed to for most of his life. Roughly carved furniture was evenly spaced out, with an old wooden table in the centre, with four chairs. A couple and their two children, presumably. Just gone, without warning or notice, or even any sign of bloodshed.

Arthur was a stubborn man, however, and he strode out of the abandoned building with a chip on his armoured shoulder, as he ignored the signs from other Knights that they had found no one either. Merlin had to run to keep up with him, and this time the Prince kicked another door down, routing through the entire home, leaving no small space behind. He did this another five times, before sighing and half resting, half collapsing onto the marble column in the centre of the village. His head was in his hands, and Merlin thanked the Knights for continuing the search instead of standing there like gaping idiots.

"What can I do, Merlin?" Arthur asked, his voice tainted with true desperation. "How can I protect my people from something that I cannot even see coming?"

Merlin found a comfortable position to sit down next to Arthur, and patted his friend's back awkwardly "There's nothing you could have done, Arthur. No one save a seer could have seen this coming. Perhaps even they wouldn't have. All you can do now is set up a place near the city walls, to protect them from whatever is responsible for this. You are not to blame, and you have done nothing wrong."

Arthur nodded, and Merlin jumped up enthusiastically, offering a hand, which was gladly accepted. He pulled his friend back up to his feet, and knights emerged from various houses, all shaking their heads in unison. No one had been found, alive or dead... just like during the mist, then. Merlin had to admit he was struggling to be upbeat; they had nothing to work on, nothing to help uncover who or what was behind this. He sincerely hoped that when they got back to Camelot, Gaius would have some answers waiting for him... and a hot bowl of soup wouldn't go amiss either.

A wave of ear-splitting noise hit Merlin in the ears, temporarily deafening him as they rung dully. Arthur and the knights were cradling their ears too, some of them having dropped to their knees. Merlin's eyes discovered the source of the blaring explosion, a column of thick, ash-saturated smoke was rising from the forest they had left barely minutes ago. It didn't blot out the sun, but it darkened the mood further among the band of men. Merlin, however, was unwilling to give in, and he ran towards the building scene, determined to find out what was going on this time round. He heard desperate shouts from Arthur and Lancelot, but he didn't stop. People had gone missing, and as far as he knew from the evidence during the mist, they were all dead too. Men, women, and children. Husbands, wives, sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, lovers... everyone, all supposedly abducted and killed for no reason at all. What was capable of this? Who?

As he sprinted into the forest, deftly weaving in and out to avoid small trees, another explosion sent Merlin off his feet, and he crashed into the solid earth, his back contacting something tough. He gritted his teeth in irritating pain, and threw himself off the ground, as his ears felt like they were about to bleed. He kept going, feeling like sweat was going to break out on his forehead, but none came. He expected to feel a sharp pain in his side as a stitch would inevitably stop him, but it did not arrive. Merlin knew he would soon run out breath, but for some unknown reason, he just kept going. The adrenaline was coursing through his body, his pumping heart strong and showing no signs of tiring. His eyes and mind were focused on the next destination, but they were soon thrown off course when another bang forced Merlin to clutch his ears in agony. Roaring defiantly, his eyes felt like they were about to be forcefully ripped from his sockets, and he propelled forward into the air, landing nearly a hundred feet closer to the source of the noise. When he looked up, a wave of blue fire threw itself horizontally across the forest, stampeding in a thin line across the doomed woodland at a truly terrifying speed. When the initial, jaw-dropping attack had ceased, Merlin realised he had been responsible for that. Thank the Gods Arthur or the others were not here.

Merlin was left to survey the scene; half of the destruction was his own fault. The very ground had been eternally cooked, the surface charred, blackened, and smoking. What had once been tall, proud trees, were now nothing more than barely discernable stumps. The fire had died away as quickly as it had been born, and all that remained was an apocalyptic scene of suicidal provoking gloom and misery. There was no proof of what had been here, what had caused the explosions, and inadvertently who was responsible for so many innocent deaths. There may have been evidence here, but Merlin's rash, uncontrollable power within him had destroyed what could have been here. He shouted in frustration at himself, for such weakness, and hurled a piece of charcoaled wood towards the dead land. He was left to ponder in his defeat, and wondered why on earth the power within the Stone of Inobscurity was attempting to change who he was, both physically and biologically, as well as mentally, but that went without saying.

He heard heavy footsteps behind him, but Merlin did not bother to greet Arthur and the Knights. He felt a hand softly touch his shoulder, and turned round to greet his friend.

"I hate to say it, but it's too dangerous," Arthur said seriously, eyes wide in shock from the carnage before him "and we need to get back to Camelot. As soon as I get back I'll ask my father to have all the citizens of Camelot sent to the city. It is the only way to ensure their safety."

"Come on, let's go." Arthur had to tug Merlin to bring him away from the border of life and death. All the warlock could hope for now was the wisdom of his tutor.

* * *

Gaius' Workroom...

Merlin groaned, head in his hands as sheer frustration nearly made him kick the nearest object, but the fact that object was Gaius' leg prevented him from just doing that.

"Gaius, surely you know some of the symbols."

"No, Merlin," Gaius replied sternly "I have checked every single one of my books on ancient texts, and there is nothing even remotely similar to this." He eyed the dead man disdainfully, whose bare skin was completely covered in mysterious, unusually shaped letters. They could be entire sentences as far as Gaius knew.

Merlin stared into his empty bowl of soup, mimicking a yawn "Does anyone know who he is yet?"

"No, but notices have been sent out with his physical description. I've already had four distressed ladies, claiming he was their husband, but no, it turned out not to be for any of them."

"Whoever the wife is, she's lucky," Merlin said grimly.

"What in the name of the gods could cause you to say such a thing!"

"At least she will have his body. Imagine all those people who have missing family and friends, and I'm the only one who knows that none of them will ever come back."

"Merlin, I hardly think she will happy to find her husband's body, which has essentially been covered in graffiti!"

Merlin sighed; he was doing an awful lot of that these days, and he knew exactly what to blame it on.

"If you don't know what the language is, then have you at least heard of a ritual or rite similar to a man being covered in symbols?"

"Yes, there is one case," Gaius said, momentarily giving up on deciphering the words and joining Merlin at the table "but it is not in the same language."

"It's something, though," Merlin said simply "and it is all we have to link this to."

"Many, many years ago – and I'm talking before the birth of the Isle of the Blessed - legends have been passed down from the creators of the runes. These were the very first druids, and they used magical stones to predict the future; the Crystal of Neahtid is but one of those ancient artefacts. They carved these visions into blessed, ancient rocks, which they surrounded with clear quartz rocks from the Crystal Cave. The language the used is known only by a select few to this day and you can be assured, Merlin, I am one of those people." Merlin nodded, allowing Gaius to continue without hindrance.

"However, the druids believed that carving their visions into flesh was as powerful a statement as hewing it into rock. Rumour has it these writings did not kill the people they were magically carved on, but instead gave them extended life, some enduring as long as three hundred years. The visions of the future constantly filled their minds, and in their infinite wisdom, they could further explain the future, and figuratively set the future in stone. The druids fully believed these visions were going to happen at some point in history, and the meaning of destiny was defined and given power."

"So, they didn't die soon after?"

"No, and that doesn't add up with this fellow." Gaius pointed over to the motionless figure on the work table.

"Unless...," Merlin started, thinking hard "hold on, what if the visions literally killed him?"

Gaius laughed "Merlin, visions can do many things to you. They can terrify, inspire, and change people, but they cannot _kill_ you. I think you need to go and get some sleep."

Merlin was going to challenge Gaius, but the door was carefully opened, and the beautiful head of the Lady Rosalia peeped around the corner, her eyes brightening when she saw Merlin.

"Ah, Lady Rosalia," Gaius said warmly "what brings you to this dark corner of the castle?"

She walked forward, fidgeting her hands "I... I needed a potion for something. I've been suffering from some terrible headaches recently, and I was wondering if you could have anything to ease my pain."

"Of course, my dear," Gaius said, forgetting to cover the body and bustling over to one of his shelves, which was overstocked with potions and herbal ingredients. He emerged with an unpleasant looking green liquid.

"Here you go," Gaius handed over the small liquid bottle "it's called Ginkgo Biloba, and it should ease your headaches considerably.

"Many thanks," Rosalia smiled warmly, but her face turned to that of shock when she noticed the body, and the potion slipped out of her hands. In one blurring movement, Merlin moved up behind her, standing from the table and catching the bottle in one hand. Gaius frowned at his superb reflex; his assistant was clumsy. What had happened to him?

"Thank you, Merlin," Rosalia's cheeks grew pink as she smiled, dimples showing. Merlin felt himself blush, but quickly realised he actually couldn't anymore. No more warmth emitted from his body.

"My pleasure," he replied, quite taken by this girl. Obviously, past experiences had taught him to have an open mind with a mildly cynical outlook, but Merlin couldn't see what was wrong with this girl. She was down to earth, but as sweet as an angel. Then again, from first impressions, Sophia appeared to be like that, but look how she turned out.

"We don't know," Gaius replied to Rosalia's question, which for a moment had been forgotten "but we are working on it, that you can be assured of."

Rosalia nodded, her eyes turning back on Merlin, and she slipped a note into the warlock's hand as she left.

After closing the door, Morgause nearly ended up sulking. She had firmly believed she knew all the ancient writings of magic... clearly there was one she had missed.

* * *

Midnight...

In the darkness, Merlin had settled himself beside the body of the poor man, who had yet to be identified. He had been unable to sleep, and Gaius' constant snoring didn't particularly help either. Nonetheless, he had grown accustomed to the sound, and its frequent, timely arrival was like a clock in his head. The day had been an interesting one. The morning had been asking for advice from the Dragon, which had proved unsuccessful. Midday, he was chasing burning shadows, and that had been unsuccessful. During the afternoon, he had attempted to decipher the tattooed code on the body, with the help and knowledge of Gaius; that had also been decidedly unsuccessful. In the evening, Merlin had adhered to Rosalia's note, and met her in her chambers. There she had gifted him with a new scarf, which was made of fine silk and was a deep, intense blood red; far more vibrant than his old, dull one. That had been rather successful, but it still did not solve the infuriating, seemingly unsolvable case before him. Whatever, or whoever they were, they were darn clever. All they left Merlin behind was frustrating, indecipherable readings, and he was left chasing and groping at shadows which had long gone. The hand that had pierced the mist to reach out to him may be the closest he would ever come to facing this unknown, cruel enemy. Merlin had no idea how many of them there were, but they were slowly... agonisingly slowly eating away at Camelot's pride and strength, mocking powerful kingdom by slitting its knees and wrists, and bringing it crashing down. At least that was what their effective plan appeared to be giving out.

Merlin twiddled his cold thumbs, his new, refined eyes piercing through the darkness onto the exposed skin. He had checked his eyes in the mirror next to Gaius' other various instruments, and the sight of them had unnerved him. They were like no pair of eyes he had seen before, and the closest he could compare them to were Nimueh's. They were a cold, icy blue, its colour whole and untainted around the edges. Merlin's, however, were not icy, but they were cold. They had grown in intensity and depth, and he swore that he had seen red, white and blue lines flicker across his iris for a split second. His eyes were more than just for seeing through now; they were a weapon in their own right.

Moonlight would have lit up the writings on the man's body, had it not been for that infernal rock, which denied Camelot two hours less sunlight. Merlin had a sudden inspiration, and stood up, looking over the body, towering over the man's bearded face. He grasped his left hand, and slowly brought it down, his fingertips barely touching the man's forehead-

He recoiled sharply, taking a deep breath in. The ink began to vaporize and rise towards his outstretched hand. Merlin, realising what he was about to experience, braced for the worst as the visions that killed the man entered his own mind. His vision was covered by another layer of perception, which rudely placed itself in front of his own.

_Blue fires were dancing high into the sky, as fully armoured men, from toe to head, marched coldly and quickly without speaking or stopping... all arched eye slits ahead. Unusual weapons hummed and snarled as they burst into life, the sound of cracks filling the air as blue lights flitted across the landscape at indescribable speeds, breaking the air apart and killing those they hit instantly. Magnificent explosions lit up the marching force, which was moving at an unstoppable, steady pace towards Camelot. Screams filled the air as guards on the watchtowers and knights on the battlements were hit by flashes of light, their heads bleeding as their bodies fell and stumbled over their lofty heights. Hundreds, thousands... no, tens of thousands were being slaughtered with horrifying efficiency and something enormous in the sky rumbled to life-_

_He was moved to another scene, where a man was passionately kissing a young woman, although he could see neither of their faces. His eyes, just like Merlin's, were filled with regret and sorrow. His heart was burdened with the death of millions, and even then he struggled to leave this woman. Surely such strong love should survive anything-_

Then, finally, his vision cleared, and a symbol, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, embedded itself into his mind, flashing furiously across his eyes. Merlin realised he was back in the room, and everything was calm and peaceful, save his panicking breathing, and his shaking hand. In horror, Merlin looked and realised that the symbol had not just embedded in his mind; it was now etched into the back of his left hand.

* * *

**So, that's it! Thanks for reading, and reviews are most welcome! May the mystery deepen, although I'd say that's the least 'cliffhangy' ending I've put up so far. What do you think? Next chapter, you will see Merlin finally face his ever evading enemy for the first time. :P**


	8. Two Men and Two Quests

**I am really, really sorry about how long this update took! My Laptop Charger broke (:/) so I had to buy a new one, which I have done now, so no need to worry about that. This chapter is a little longer than usual, but I felt like I needed to for such a long gap without updating. Sorry, guys :/ Hope you're still here!**

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, darkness still shrouded the centre of the Kingdom of Camelot. The vast city was humbled in the presence of a mighty figure; a figure which was not meant to be here. In the plains separating the two forces, a thin, dewy mist smothered the green blades of grass, the smoky layer pierced at occasional points by lumps of jutting rocks, which had departed from the main body and had rudely settled themselves where they wanted. The people had not yet awoken save the guards on watch and two aging men with different troubles, yet both linked.

Gaius was used to waking up early, but not this early. The trademark cuckoo had not even passed yet, and the looming figure of the monstrous rock blocked out what would have been a beautiful sunrise. The physician was already dressed, but he was worried about two different matters entirely. The first was Merlin; the boy had been distant of late. The shadowy events that had proceeded since the star's downfall had cast their own unique shadow over the young warlock, and he seemed trapped in the darkness. The Stone of Inobscurity had changed not just his physical appearance, but his personality had taken a strange turn. He seemed aware of the problem, but it was as if the boy had given up on fighting back. This hurt Gaius deeply; he had seen too many of his kin die, and he didn't want to see Merlin lose his soul, especially after all he had overcome beforehand.

The second was the fact that King Uther had just summoned him to the Throne Room at this unearthly hour. It could only mean trouble, and Gaius had been unnerved by his lack of knowledge from recent events. There was very little of the magic of the Old Religion that he did not at least know a rough idea of, but this new scope that had been apparently caused by the star was completely alien to him. There was a notion stirring in his head, but he stamped it out every time it attempted to rise. It was simply impossible.

Leaving his workroom and home behind, Gaius went down the whitewashed corridors of the castle, his footsteps ten times louder than they would have been had it been during the day. Night time – even though strictly speaking it was not – always came hand in hand with eeriness. The thought of the Lady Morgana walking these corridors at night, plotting the downfall of the very kingdom that had protected her all her life, knocked Gaius sick. All those guards, knights, men and who knows else who had protected and died for her; she wasted no time in forgetting their sacrifices! She simply walked into Morgause's web of mixed deceit and truth and suddenly believed it all? The woman had gone insane, and Gaius knew for a fact the old Morgana was gone forever. There were some steps that could never be walked down, only up. He had been sad, of course to see her change in such a way, but sometimes the physician had to care about those most important to him, such as Merlin, and even himself from time to time.

Gaius reached the great wooden doors of the throne room, and the guards permitted him entrance, swinging the complaining hinges open. As expected, the King was on his throne, but what surprised was the fact that Uther was fully dressed. He hadn't even slept.

The four stout columns, two on either side, were surrounded with candles of various sizes and shades, but none were lit, save two at either side of the Throne, and four before it. Uther was in this field of light, surrounded from all directions by the darkness. It was a powerful image of the constant struggle he faced ruling the kingdom, and how it had been brutally amplified by recent events.

"Sire, you summoned me."

"Yes... yes I did," The King replied distantly, remaining on his throne, "Please come closer, Gaius. I have a matter of great importance and secrecy to share with you. It could ultimately decide the fate of my Kingdom."

These powerful words caused Gaius to shuffle closer, into the King's circle of light. As he did so, Uther rose from his throne, the bags under his eyes illuminated. He looked terribly tired. Being King meant lots of comforts and privileges, but there was a price to pay for a life of luxury. So much must rest on his weary shoulders.

"As you know, Camelot has now reached a stage where every single one of my people is at risk. I spoke to Arthur earlier, and he had the same suggestion that was weighing on my mind; all citizens under our protection, no matter how far from the city, no matter how close to the borders, must evacuate their homes and move within a quarter of a league of the city."

"Sire," Gaius said in shock and awe, "Surely that would spread panic through the people like fire through a forest; destructive and attracting unwanted attention?"

"There is enough panic and fear in my people; a little more will do them no harm," Uther smiled wryly "and this is to remain a secret. You, I, and a number of knights and emissaries are to know of this."

"Is Prince Arthur not included?"

"He is not aware of the full extent of my plans," Uther replied without giving too much away "nor does anyone else, even you. For now, I shall tell you the basics, and what you must do, because you have the most important task of all. Whether our Kingdom falls under this menace or not, may well depends up on how you carry this out."

Gaius was no stranger to pressure, but this was something else.

"I am all ears, sire."

Uther scratched his head, ruffling the little hair that remained "You and I are both aware Gaius, that the measures this kingdom may take in protecting its people may not be enough against this new threat... are you sure they are not behind it?" He could not even bring himself to say their names, but Gaius instantly knew who the King meant.

"Sire, I do not doubt the older lady's power, but even this must be beyond her capabilities. To bring a star crashing down to earth is far, far beyond any magic I have even heard rumours of! No, whatever is responsible for the disappearances is a new enemy, my lord, and one that may threaten our beloved kingdom in a way we have never encountered before."

"Gaius, over a thousand of my people have gone missing; I cannot let anyone else die. I am willing to make extreme decisions if it will prevent any more disappearances."

"What kind of extreme measures, my lord?" Gaius remembered the last time Uther had hinted at something like this, but he would not dare bring up that moment in time ever again.

"You know of a man called Uscias?"

Gaius tried his best not to recoil in surprise, but he could not help but splutter, unable to give back an effective reply.

"I am aware of your past, Gaius, and I know you have left it behind. Just tell me about this man; I know he is the only one who could have the power to protect us."

Gaius gulped "I must warn you of one detail, sire. Uscias was a very close friend of Morgause. Would it be so wise to trust-"

"Do not mention her name in my presence!" Uther hissed, but he did not wait for an inevitable apology "I care not of their friendship, only that he is the only sorcerer I did not persecute in the purge."

Gaius' lower jaw nearly fell off "Why did you not seek him out, sire?"

"He was, and still is, my cousin," Uther answered simply "and I have never told anyone of this. You must promise not to tell anyone, even your assistant Merlin."

"Of... of course sire," Gaius managed by a few words but they were overrun by Uther's brief explanation and determined, lengthy plan of action.

"We are related through my mother; his father was her younger brother. He has a claim to Alined's Kingdom, but he never took it."

"I want you to have Uscias found, and brought to Camelot safely with the promise of protection and obscurity. He won't take much persuasion as he knows I'd never harm him; we grew up together and despite his crime for magic, he saved my life on several occasions, so that just about pardons him."

"I have no idea where he would be now, sire."

"The Isle of the Blessed was the last place he was seen, about a year or so ago. Send your boy, Merlin, to bring him to Camelot."

Gaius gulped "Surely, sire, it is far too dangerous to send him out on his own. After all... after all that has happened-"

"That is exactly why he must succeed. If he does manage to bring Uscias back, I will make Merlin a free man of Camelot, just as I did with you when you showed me the corruption of Edwin Muirden. He will be rewarded for his services to Camelot."

"If he dies-"

"Then he will be honoured for his courage. What more could he want?" Uther asked without care.

"Sire, with all my due respect put forward, and I truly mean this, Merlin doesn't stand a chance out there! Entire villages have gone missing-"

"Which is why he must travel alone; he will be less likely to be seen by...," Uther stopped, infuriated by the lack of answers Gaius had unearthed from the writings covered over the dead man.

"Go to the boy, and make sure he is well prepared. You know the way to the Isle of the Blessed from here, and you are well aware of what is in between too. Camelot is on the verge of collapse, and I want Merlin to play his part in protecting the Kingdom. I know he is more than capable after all that he has done."

"Uscias may have answers. Rumour has it he knows of things that not even the Dragons possessed the knowledge of. It may depend on your boy, Merlin, to increase our chances of fending off this invisible enemy, and ultimately saving Camelot from catastrophe."

Gaius, bowing, left the room with shaking hands and a heavy heart. He didn't feel good about this.

* * *

Arthur had struggled to sleep through the last night. The suffering of his people lay heavy on his mind and heart, and feeling unable to do anything to ease their pain was both infuriating and upsetting. It was similar to when he had killed a unicorn, an even though he was not responsible for the actions being taken now, Arthur still felt it was his fault that he had not acted sooner.

Guards, messengers and scouts with the fastest horses left the city by more subtle exits to Camelot, without stirring fear among the people. Soon the villagers would step in, from all directions, as the population was crammed into the kingdom's capital for their own safety. The whole structure and infrastructure of Camelot was folding into itself, and it had no choice, otherwise it would collapse.

So far Arthur had not yet received word from his father, but it was only a matter of priceless time before he was ushered away to some business outside the high, suffocating walls of the citadel. It would be a relief and a chance for the Prince to help and comfort his people. It would be dangerous but it was his duty, and whether danger or not, duty must be done.

A knock landed on his firmly locked door, and Arthur wandered over with fatigue nibbling at his heels. It was quite early morning, and the sun had not yet arisen, although that didn't really say much during these testing times. He undid the latch quietly, swinging the door open in full force as a light breeze hit his face, and the sight of Sir Gwaine reached his eyes.

"Gwaine," Arthur said with a tinge of half-hidden surprise, "what has you up so early?"

"I have heard that Merlin is to leave Camelot," replied Gwaine, expectant of his master's fury.

"What?" Arthur fumed, no longer masking his bewildered state. "When was I to be told of this by my father?"

"As soon you awoke, Arthur, I promise-"

"Well I'm awake now!" shouted Arthur, brushing aside his Knight with little care. He strolled down the corridor with an arrogant, yet purposeful stride, which grew in length and vigour. Gwaine was forced to equal this pace, as going short would throw him out of earshot, and too far would be an incredibly rude act in front of royalty. He was sharp behind the heels of his Prince, his ears pricked and ready to heed orders.

"This is ridiculous, Gwaine. We both know Merlin couldn't hold off a single vagabond, so he isn't going to stand a chance against whatever is out there. Why does my father come up with such insane ideas? I fear for his health since Morgana's betrayal. I must admit, it hit me hard in the heart, but not as much as my father, for he has felt her treachery worst of all. I must bring reason to him before madness gets to him first."

Such words were treason, and even for the Prince to utter the punishment was extreme, although not quite execution. Gwaine, however, had not joined the prestigious fighting force of the Knights of Camelot to serve Uther; he had joined for Arthur, and so that is whom he would truly serve.

"What are you to do, sire?" asked Gwaine, in a seemingly vain attempt to calm down Arthur before he reached the throne room. The corridors were dark, but the Knight's keen eyes picked out the Prince's, which had a malicious gleam in them.

"I will convince my father to give Merlin's Quest – whatever it may be – to me instead. I'm sure I will be more than capable to live up to the task."

"Surely you will be of more use here,-"

"No I will not!" Arthur replied with suppressed anger, his fists clenched to contain the rest. "What good will I be to those out in the wilderness when I am imprisoned in my own home! No, I am of no use here. I have to get out of here, Gwaine, one way or another, and quickly."

They had reached the doors of the throne room, and Gwaine led his master out of the possibly eavesdropping guards. Either way, he hadn't seen them before so they did not yet gain his trust.

"What will you do if the King does not grant you permission to leave the city?"

"I will do exactly the same as what I would do if he did," Arthur replied with a determined smile, "I will leave the city."

With that he threw open the doors of his father; Arthur would have thrown them down if he had the strength to. His father was still in charge, but he was making a grave mistake.

"Arthur," said Uther, his authorative voice resounding clearly in the privileged room, "You are up very early. What is it that brings you here?"

"I know longer know when morning has arrived and when it passes," Arthur replied solemnly, "and nor do I know if you do not know what is best for this kingdom anymore."

"What on earth do you think you are saying?" growled Uther, his tone now cold and hard.

"Why do you send out a servant on an important quest, and not I? Why my own servant, of all people! I know it is of importance and secrecy, else I would have known of this by now. Tell me, father, and let us see if I can be of use here."

"No!" Uther made his point with great haste. "I will not send out my son when hundreds disappear without any sign at all! For all we know this may be an attempt to lure you out of the safety of the citadel!"

"I doubt any enemy, no matter how much hatred they may harbour for you and I, would take such effort in merely attempting to throw out some bait for me to willingly catch."

"Father, send me out instead, please. Have I ever not returned from perilous quests harmed and unwell?"

"Yes," Uther replied distantly, "When you were bitten by the Questing Beast."

"That was a long time ago," answered Arthur with brewing frustration, "I was young and foolish, and had no sense of self-care. Surely you have seen the changes in your own son. I am ready, and more importantly, _I_ am ready."

Uther sighed, his age showing on such occasions. He was too weak to argue with his son, and knew Arthur was as stubborn as he was in his normal health. Yet this was different. The King had not so easily forgotten the treasonous words uttered before him earlier, but he was willing to let them pass unpunished if Arthur came back unscratched with Uscias. Perhaps his son was right in this case after all.

However, he was unwilling to shed light to Arthur on who exactly Uscias was.

"Very well. Go south-west, and travel through the valleys of the White Mountains. Then bear west, on even ground till you reach the Valley of Fallen Kings. Beware of the ancient forest there, and try to avoid it if you can. Soon after, you will reach the Isle of the Blessed. Find a man there named Uscias, and escort him back to Camelot. This is of urgent importance, Arthur, and you must not fail."

Arthur, now with what he had come for, did not try to push his luck by asking more questions. He knew his orders and directions; what more needed to be known? He made a quick bow and left Uther's presence hastily. He now had his own orders to give out.

To his annoyance, Gwaine was no longer outside; he must have fled the probable shouting between the two royal men. It was a surprise that not that much arguing had taken place. Perhaps his father now realised the seriousness of the situation at hand.

After pacing several corridors, Arthur found what he was looking for; a knight, or to be even more specific, Lancelot. It mattered not who it was, as long as he could trust his life with them, and that included each and every one of his knights. Clearly fate or coincidence had chosen this particular knight for this particular task.

"Lancelot, I am leaving Camelot."

"Why? I have heard Merlin is to leave as well."

"Not anymore. I have convinced the King to give the task to me, and I have a task for you of great importance."

"I am all ears."

"No matter what - and I mean this - no matter what - protect Gwen with your life. I don't know how long I may be, or even if I may return-"

"Do not say that-"

"The truth must be heard! If I do not return, make sure Gwen is given the right of nobility, as it is her right as her brother is now a Knight, and take good care of her. If I am not to return then at least I will die, or disappear, knowing the one I love is in safe hands. Do this for me, Lancelot. Please."

Lancelot looked to Arthur with desperation "You will return, and so these words need not be heeded-"

"They will be heeded nonetheless! Try to imagine love, Lancelot, to understand love, and step into my shoes. Then you will understand."

"Your people need you, sire!"

"And I need Gwen!" replied Arthur evenly. "So for the sake of the people and I, guard her with your life! There are strange things afoot outside the city walls; who knows when they will venture inside?" With that, the Prince left a bewildered Knight in his wake; a Knight who just happened to also understand love.

* * *

Gaius was deep in thought when Merlin finally woke up, and the warlock looked taken aback at sight of a packed bag on the table.

"Are you getting rid of me Gaius?" He asked meekly. He knew touching the body had been a mistake, but he didn't realise it would anger Gaius this much.

"I am afraid so, Merlin, at the King's order. You are to undertake a mission of extreme importance, for the good of Camelot."

Merlin's eyes, whose pupils had now subtly begin to change shape, grew. "Me?" He asked hoarsely "How could I possibly be of use to Camelot?"

Gaius gave him one of those reserved looks "You and I both know the truth of that, but as for Uther, well; he is probably throwing a coin down a mine."

"What do you mean by that?"

"To see how deep it is, Merlin, or in this case, to see how dangerous the land really is. Large groups of his subjects have been snatched under his very nose, but how would a lone traveller fare? Either they would be easily picked off, or they would travel unnoticed, and therefore unhindered."

"Are you telling me Uther is using me as an experiment?" Merlin asked with mixed disgust and fear.

"I am afraid so," Gaius answered, "but you need not worry too much. Most missing persons have been last sighted in the north and east, with of course the exception being Ederton in the west. The south, however, seems untouched, so you will be travelling a reasonably safe road, so long as you do not cut through the wilderness."

"Where am I to go, and what am I to do once I get there?"

"You know your way to the Isle of the Blessed, do you not? You have been there once before; although that is nigh on three years ago now. You should still remember the way there, and once you do arrive you are to find a man named Uscias, and bring him to Camelot."

"Why is this Uscias so important?" asked Merlin, who had gripped one pale hand onto his hastily packed rucksack, made of rough leather. The musky scent of the material reminded him of travelling, and the constant caution that had to be taken when out in the wild.

"He knows many a thing, they say. If anyone in Albion – indeed the world - has an answer to all that is going on, it is him. Seek him out, and bring him to the citadel with great haste; Uscias will not resist."

Merlin sighed, having barely awoken mere moments ago, and was now thrown into an adventure he had not expected. He loved a quest or two, but this had a different feel to it. For the first time – with the exception of his previous visit to the Isle of the Blessed – Merlin felt like he wouldn't be coming home from this venture. The land of Camelot was now full of dark and evil doings, all of which seemed new and alien to them all. He preferred the times when his enemies were creatures and villainous people with chips on their shoulders, instead of shapeless shadows which slowly poisoned his mind and manipulated his body. Fear struck the brave, terror twisted the cowards, and a sense of change found those in between. Merlin had been told by Lancelot that he had been the bravest of them all, but never had such negative power held him down for such a long time. This was going to be a tough one.

He hurled the light sack over his shoulders, and to his regret Gaius caught sight of the bandage around his left hand.

"What have you done there?" Gaius asked with innocent intrigue, but Merlin was afraid of the physician's reaction to what lay underneath the cloth.

"Oh, it's nothing." Merlin went to leave without another word, but one word pulled him back.

"Merlin."

"Yes?" Merlin asked with a streak of irritation, hidden by the part of him that wanted to remain here.

"Let me have a look," Gaius stepped forward, and slowly unwound the bandage around Merlin's hand. The warlock closed his eyes, bracing for the furious wave of questions and endless lists of unpleasant chores...

"Everything seems to be in perfect health."

Merlin opened one eye, and then another, as Gaius placed the rolled up bandage on a shelf to the side. Looking down, he realised his hands were completely spotless! There was no sign of last night at all! Perhaps it had just been a bad dream...

"I'll keep it all the same," Merlin answered, grabbing the cloth and placing it back in a clenched fist. Gaius frowned at the odd behaviour, but decided not let it grow on him or the boy.

"Now, you take good care of yourself, Merlin. Come back in one piece, and if there is anything else you wish to know, be out with it now."

"Is there any chance Nimueh is still-"

Gaius knew this would be the first question that Merlin would ask "Do not fret, my boy. Nimueh is well and truly dead, and there is no magic of the Old Religion which can ever bring her back. You may find, due to her power, her spirit may whisper terrible things to you at and around the spot you killed her, but they will be distant and powerless curses of foul tongue. Energy cannot be destroyed, after all, and it takes a while for such powerful forms of energy to be fully transformed into something else."

Merlin nodded, taking a small measure of comfort from this. Yet the main threat still lingered and clung to the source of his fears.

"Do you think Uscias will know what is behind all of this?"

"I do not know, Merlin, but I am more positive than before. He will surely tell you what he knows as soon as you meet him, if you come across as trustworthy enough. The road ahead is clear for now, so you best go. I know you have faced many dangers before, but as always, come home safe." With that he embraced the boy he had seen grow into a man, and with the came great pride, despite no blood relation.

"Take good care of yourself, Gaius, and I shall be back sooner than you think."

The old man smiled, and waved the warlock goodbye. It would be quite some time before he saw Merlin again.

* * *

Arthur was outside the eastern gate, which was now abandoned in terms of guards, as any threat which had once been posed in that direction was blocked out by a different kind of wall altogether. The sun had crept round and above the towering summit of the fallen star, its warm spring light finally warming the Prince and the dewy grass around him. He would travel light and fast, but well armoured, so the plates of armour were scrapped, but the chain mail remained. With him he carried his sword, a small crossbow, and two light daggers. The southern road was the safest of the moment, but it would seem during these times that an awful lot could change in the space of a couple of days.

Of course, Arthur was waiting for his servant, Merlin, and when the bumbling idiot arrived, he'd be sent straight back up to the castle, to do whatever he does in the little spare time he has. By god he was going to have a lot of spare time ahead of him, the Prince thought. If only he could have a few days off...

There had been little time to waste, or even to use, so he only had mere moments to speak to Gwen. It had been short, but sweet, as it is said, and he had told her she would be in capable hands in the time he was away. Arthur trusted Lancelot with his life, and saw no reason not to, else he would not.

Eventually, the sight of Merlin came to view, and Arthur was surprised to see him on foot. It seemed care was more important than haste in the case of this mission. He had brought a stallion with him, laden with food, weapons, and other required apparel. His servant merely carried a small rucksack with him, and no sign of any weapons! Then again, he was useless with any form of arms, so it made little difference.

When Merlin nearly walked into him, Arthur raised a hand to stop him. Then they both simultaneously said "What are you doing?"

"I've had orders from the King-"answered Merlin, but he never got a chance to finish.

"It has been changed. I am to go in your stead. You can go back now."

Merlin looked bewildered and tired, but then he grinned "Let's both go together!"

"Haha!" Arthur laughed, but then abruptly stopped "No. It is far too dangerous."

"We've both been through many dangers, and yet still we are standing."

"Barely," muttered Arthur in reply, noticing Merlin's wobbly legs. Clearly on the cider again, or wine, or whatever it was that got him drunk. He didn't realise it was fear that caused such movement.

"I mean, Merlin, what would you have done had you gone? What would your plan of action be?"

"Travel light, and by day. I would have stuck to the side of the roads, and drifted not into any suspicious or magical places. I would not have lit any fires at night, for I know what such things can attract. Then, when I returned, I hoped you would grant me a day or two off, to go to Ealdor to see if my mother is safe. After all, you told me to write to her, but there are no messengers left, for they are all busy and far away."

Arthur would have exposed the sudden fear in him had it not been for his manservant's anxious look.

"Walk with me for a while," Arthur said after a short while of silence, having made his mind up on the whole matter.

So they walked, for several miles or so, southwards, and parallel to the new geographical barrier to the east. The plains were still littered with debris, some rocks as small as fingernails, whereas others were as large as small hovels. From the sun's positioning, no more shadows were cast over them, but one had managed to crawl its way into Arthur's head, that he was certain of. It had been simple before, but thanks to Merlin, there were now two important quests to be achieved, and quickly. Time was running out.

After ten miles or so they reached the edge of the fallen rock, whose end was jagged and unpleasant in shape. However, it was clearly noticeably less in terms of width than length. Whereas it seemed ten leagues from one end to the other, it barely looked a mile across. Yet it was still a league high; a true monstrosity. Even the clouds could not escape it.

Arthur and Merlin had reached a crossroads, not just one that led to many places, but one which would lead them new parts of their legendary lives, and this would be a pivotal moment in their growing friendship.

"So, do you still want me to come with you?" asked Merlin, who was holding onto the horse with his left hand, which seemed to be bandaged.

Arthur shook his head slowly "I am afraid not, Merlin, because I am going that way." He pointed to his left... east.

"Why are you going that way?" Merlin frowned, "The Isle of the Blessed is in that direction." He pointed towards the distant peaks of the White Mountains, to the South-West.

"That is your road," replied Arthur, "and this is mine. I will bring your mother back to Camelot."

Merlin had done plenty of jaw-dropping in his time, but at this particular moment he stopped himself. Nonetheless, he was very shocked.

"Why... why would you do that for me?" Merlin asked with amazement.

Arthur struggled to find the words he wanted to truly say, and when he did, they passed like clouds on a clear day. He merely shrugged softly.

"You helped defeat Morgause and retake Camelot, and you've always stood by my side. This is the least I can do... for now anyway."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, Merlin, we could have accompanied one another on both quests, but there is no time. You must retake your old errand and bring back Uscias. I promise, a day or two after you get back, so will I."

Merlin was incredibly thankful, but curiosity was not so easily silenced. "Yes Ealdor is closer to Camelot than the Isle of the Blessed. Surely you will be back before I am?"

Arthur shook his head grimly "Most of the disappearances have been from the north, and some to the east. The south has virtually been untouched, so your path may be longer, but it shall be much safer."

"Then you should take the horse, so you cover the dark ground more quickly."

"No, Merlin, I must be swift, but most importantly... silent. I do not know what is out there, so if I do not return, then tell my father I fell on the way southwards to some bandit's arrows. You must do this!"

"Don't speak of such things; you will be back safely, as will I!" Merlin replied angrily. "I won't stand for such depressing nonsense. We have been through innumerable dangers before; what makes this one so different?"

Arthur found a slack grin, and he tightened it, nodding swiftly. He stripped the horse of his weapons and a small sack of food, with some water too. Handing the horse's rein over to his friend, with one dagger left behind for Merlin, he nodded.

"We'll see each other soon enough."

Merlin held out a hand, with a heartfelt gratitude in his eyes "Thank you, Arthur."

The Prince grasped Merlin's hand, and shook it. With one last look of common understanding, the two men went their separate ways, on equally important quests.

* * *

Morgana was tired, but quietly amused by the way Merlin was falling into their delicate little trap. Morgause, as Rosalia, was not rushing anything, or making any extreme or suspicious moves, but instead was flirting with the young man as any woman may do. Mere flirting, nothing more, and that is why Merlin would not suspect a thing.

Before Merlin had left to go onto some stupid little quest, he had met Rosalia, explaining that he had to find a man called Uscias, and that she should tell anyone he told her as he would be in almighty trouble for doing so. She promised, a strange smirk on her plump lips, as the door was closed behind her. She seemed to know this Uscias, but wouldn't tell anything to Morgana, which just frustrated the younger witch even more.

The two had finally managed a way of untraceable communication to Alvarr and Mordred. The twinned parchment had not been to Morgause's liking, but it soon proved a useful tool. Alvarr informed them that they were camped south of the city, under the protection of a nearby forest. Good news came in the form of new guards; Alvarr's men in disguise had enlisted themselves to Uther's service. That would make things much easier. The man seemed uneasy though, and between the lines Morgana read an unexplainable fear, and something in the back of her head told her to be thankful to be back in the castle of Camelot.

Word soon reached them that Arthur had also left the castle. Morgana smirked widely. It was a perfect opportunity to get close to Uther without having to worry about two of their other enemies. She had dined with Uther several times now, and they slowly seemed to be bonding as close friends. All was going well for the sisters.

* * *

Merlin wiped his forehead in an instinctive reaction to the burning sun, expecting sweat, but none was there. If anything he felt warmer inside his body, as it always felt freezing cold these days. Such thoughts had just been in the back of his mind, after the amazing decision Arthur had just made. Give it two years, maybe even just a single year ago, and he would not have done that. 'Glad' didn't quite cut it for how Merlin felt about having Arthur as a friend. 'Utterly relieved and eternally thankful to the Gods' just about did.

He continued on the wide southern path, which was surrounded by wheat fields on both sides. Buildings were scattered here and there, with a hamlet or two by the road, and to Merlin's utmost relief, people were there, hustling and bustling about their daily business, and he had never seen it in such a wonderful way. It seemed the south was untouched for the time being, and Merlin was glad for it.

Soon, though, the fields gave way to grass plains, untouched save by rocky outcrops with petrified trees perched on their summits. The sky had now darkened white clouds with touches of grey smothering the heavens. The sun could not pierce through this new layer. A smaller, less trodden path, arced forwards to the right; south-west. That was the path Merlin must take, and so he did, guiding the reins carefully as he was no skilled horseman, especially with such a valiant, tall warhorse.

Ahead of him lay a small forest, and as a distant crackle of thunder boomed over his heard, Merlin thought it best to rest there. His legs still felt a little wobbly, and he'd forgive Arthur for thinking he was drug. The truth of it was that after he had left Gaius' presence, the crest from what had appeared to be a nightmare, reappeared clear as day on the back of his left hand. It felt like cold metal to the touch, although it didn't really feel cold at all; as cold as his own body was. It was unnaturally smooth to the touch, but something did not rub. Something was wrong.

As he neared the forest, a sense of unexplainable dread washed over his mind. Shaking his head, Merlin cleared away all negative thoughts, and the clouds opened above him, only for the rain to come crashing down in heavy, dense drops. Within seconds he was completely drenched, and the thick canopies of trees soon protected Merlin almost from all the terrible weather, as he entered the small forest. He tied the horse to a strong tree, and sat down uncomfortably among dead pine leaves, while hoping to dry before nightfall arrived. He would rest here tonight if conditions did not approve. He would be no good in bringing Uscias back to Camelot if he had a cold and had to be escorted back by the other man, instead of the other way round as it was meant to be.

After a while, the lightning and thunder ceased, but the rain still thundered downwards, and Merlin could hear the occasional drip-drop, as some tiny amounts of water found their way through the thick canopies of evergreen. The air was dark and close here, and now a little damp too, and Merlin quickly decided he did not like it... at all. The spaces between distant trees seemed darker and thicker than they should, and the rainfall sounded too loud. Something, though, caused him look up to his left, as a drop departed from a pine leaf and fell towards the ground. It slowed, and Merlin felt cold air, very cold air surround him. He watched as the drop descended slowly to the earth, and realised that it's slowed state was not of his doing. Then, as it hit the ground, instead of a soft, quiet drop, a loud thumping noise resonated deep inside his head.

The air grew yet colder, yet Merlin's breath still did not give off steam. He was finding it difficult to breathe however, as fear began to gnaw at his courage. He jumped and grabbed the knife, but as it was unsheathed, no sound emerged. The rain continued to pound the earth, but it could not be heard. Was he death?

Then, a sense of inevitability washed over him as he felt cruel eyes bore into his back, and Merlin took a deep breath, before spinning around and meeting the very first of his new kin.

* * *

**Ah, yes, now I know this is a cliff-hanger, but I just can't help doing them! Else ending's would be boring, wouldn't they? Hope you've enjoyed and please R&R!**


	9. The Vanguard

**I've decided to do a shorter chapter this time, as I want to know if you guys and gals prefer either shorter or longer updates. I'd love replies from all of you so let me know which you prefer and I will try to please you all! :D Thank you to _jaqtkd_ and Jissai for your reviews. **

* * *

The first thing that Merlin saw was two unreal eyes boring into his own fearful ones, and that was all he saw for the time being as some ultra force pulled him to earth at a sickening speed as a flash of blue light seared over his head. It contacted a nearby tree, setting it aflame. Yet it was no normal fire, for the flames were blue, and the heat was instantly unbearable. Merlin had little, if any, time to complain however, as he was thrown off his feet into another tree. He hit the solid trunk at speed, but jumped straight from the ground, with no pain burdening him. Unable to see his enemy, he scrambled to safety.

Merlin was sorely tempted to breathe in deeply and regain his wits, but something in his head told him not to. Eyes sharply peeled, he permitted himself to peek around the tree he was resting against. What had once appeared to be a grey, clammy hand was nothing of the sort. Instead a metallic arm extended around the edge of a nearby tree, full of detailed carvings and symbols similar to what he had seen on the dead man. It was silver with a slight blue tinge, and to Merlin it looked like the most stunningly complex piece of armour he had ever seen. However, as he admired its intricacy and refined surface, it turned to ash, collapsing into nothingness.

Merlin spun around, and saw an exact copy of what he had just seen hit him full on the face. The pain was only light; nothing of what it should be, but he was in no mood to complain or wonder about it. A figure stood before him, swinging swift blows in his direction. He didn't know how he did it, but Merlin avoided all of them, his vision blurring at the edges from the sheer speed of everything going on. Somehow, he threw two punches in his enemy's direction. One cut through air, but the second in their chest, and they were thrown back with the same force as if they were a puppet pulled back by string. During that brief moment Merlin got his first glimpse of his true enemy.

Covered from head to toe in dazzling, illuminated, constantly shifting armour, it was a true terror to behold. It was no taller than Merlin, and appeared human in shape, but through the slits in its helmet were eyes of blue malice. Crashing into a tree, and forcing the poor thing back down to the earth, roots and all, it regained its posture. It eyed Merlin with a cold fusion of hatred and intrigue, before pulling a small box from its side. It was metal in appearance, covered in lines and unknown meanings, and initially appeared harmless. Yet it roared into life, extending and humming, snarling and whirring, overlapping and lighting up magnificently at certain points while darkening at others. Its half-illuminated end was pointed straight at Merlin, and the warlock gulped, before diving to the left with and extra leap in his jump.

He was fortunate. A huge flash of blue light burst forth from the strange weapon, igniting a fiery explosion which sent him flying. Merlin landed on the ground awkwardly, but shouted in defiance as he threw aside the cloth bandage and revealed his new identity. The crest shone and the next thing Merlin felt was an enormous jolt, and a blinding flash of light.

* * *

In the most south-easterly point of the Darkling Woods, two figures waited patiently, unmoving and unseen. They shrouded themselves in the protective cloak of the dark forest, keeping clear from the bright sunlight. It had been unlikely they would have been caught at first, but the last few days had been very busy on the roads of Camelot.

Alvarr and Mordred had set up camp a few minutes' walk from the edge of the ancient woodland, from where the great city of Camelot could be seen. Numerous spells had been placed for their protection, dissuading wanderers to enter their domain, and instilling fear into those who wished to enter the wood. Talk of a dark shadow in the north was of their doing. However, whatever was taking place in the east was not of their creation. An evil shadow had fallen over that direction, cast by the fallen star.

Alvarr was crouching, using a smooth boulder to lean on. A quill was between his teeth, and he bit down in frustration as he read his latest received message. Ink trapped in the bird's feather spattered all over the aged parchment, where blood red words unfurled before his very eyes.

_No, Alvarr, we are not attempting an assassination on Uther yet! Patience is a virtue you clearly lack, so we must thank the gods that one of us at least does possess such a gift that is so hard to come by!_

If he was not in a position that required secrecy then Alvarr would have cursed her name to the gods. What an infernal woman! He could tell by the answer that it was Morgause who now had the parchment. Whenever it was Morgana, she spoke with a little more respect, but the older witch had never seen him eye to eye. They were all allies with a common enemy, but that did not mean they all necessarily got on with each other. Sometimes he was wrong, but Alvarr knew that he was right this time. They had to strike Uther quickly, and bring him down before any of those with magic were killed! Why would patience and time be of any assistance to them? Foolish woman; she considered herself a wise woman but Alvarr thought quite the opposite. Something had unsettled her recently and he was determined to find out what.

Alvarr had gone through some tough times since his escape from Camelot, which felt like years ago. The mission had ultimately been a defeat, with Mordred not having enough time to look into the Crystal of Neahtid and gather answers. After he escaped the dungeon – with help from Morgana – Alvarr had fled north, into the dangerous Kingdom of Mercia. It was more tolerant of magic, but there was no unity among those with the gift. Fights broke out often, with blood spilt daily on the streets. He had barely stitched a life worth living together in that place. He had kept his head down, and gathered news of other kingdoms, and lands beyond. Camelot was still standing, but other Kingdoms near the south of Albion were growing in aggression with each other. Talk of a spreading darkness from the far north unsettled many, but as there were no more details it did not unnerve Alvarr. He cared not for distant lands; they were not his problem.

After a particularly bloody riot Alvarr left Mercia behind him, and ventured south-east, hearing rumours that Cenred was gathering magical warriors to war against Camelot. However, by the time he had arrived, the army had fallen back, and magic was temporarily disfavoured at Cenred's court.

It was in the forest of Ascetir that he had finally found Mordred. The young boy had not really said much of the time that had passed since their last meeting, but he seemed in good health, so that was good enough for Alvarr. Despite being very quiet, the boy had always intrigued Alvarr. His eyes were full of mysticism and unknowing, and for fleeting moments, in certain light, their colour appeared to change. Alvarr had at first dismissed it as a trick of the light, but this had happened on several occasions now, and he was growing in suspicion. Not that he didn't trust the boy... no, he'd trust Mordred with his life; it's just there was much, much more to him than met the eye.

Since that moment of rediscovery, the two had travelled north-west to Morgause's Palace, only to be blocked by an unsurpassable barrier of powerful magic. Both of them had attempted to break through, but it had all been in vain, until that day when the sorceress decided to step out of her field of protection.

Had it not been for the new enchantment, Alvarr would have recommended to Morgause to move to the Isle of the Blessed, but he had been told rumours that she feared the place, as it brought back terrible memories of the time when she had been but a girl, and the Island had been assaulted by the armies of Camelot. Hundreds had been slaughtered, and she had seen war in its worst form before her very eyes... her young eyes. She had been one of the very few to survive that massacre, and it had fuelled her hatred from thereon, and still it drove her to bring Camelot crashing to its knees. She had lost people dear to her, both during _and_ after that day, or so Alvarr had heard. He harboured some pity for the woman if the talk was true, but only a little.

Rubbing through his tough beard, Alvarr pondered how to answer without causing further confrontation. Perhaps getting on with Morgause was the only way of speeding this whole thing up.

_Five more of my men have enlisted as guards; that should be enough for now. Whatever you do, do not leave Camelot. There is talk of danger outside the walls and if I had a couple of those crystals like yours then I would gladly accept them and enter the city._

* * *

_You need not worry; I am not so easily dissuaded by mere talk. As for the crystals, I only have one left, so you should let Mordred have it instead._

Morgause smiled contentedly. All was going to plan. She was now growing accustomed to her new appearance, and Merlin seemed quite attracted to her, which was quite funny to her considering he had probably considered her his worst enemy. Of course, he had not yet fallen for her, and it would probably take some time for that, but Morgause was willing to wait. That was her side task, and Morgana's was to befriend Gwen. Ultimately, they would plan a point where they would assassinate Uther, Arthur, Merlin and Gwen in one night. Morgause would kill Uther and Merlin, while Morgana would end the lives of the two lovebirds, Arthur and Gwen. One these four were disposed of, their path to taking the throne would be a stroll in the park.

Of course, Morgause also planned on killing Lancelot, after his magical spell had sent her flying against a pillar, nearly killing her. She could just expose his gift to the court and let him be executed, but that was too easy. She wanted to see the life leave his eyes when she killed him.

At that moment, as Morgause pictured the scene, Morgana entered their chambers, as the tall and haughty Abelena. The two women couldn't be any more different in physical appearance, but the two shared so much in common on the inside. They were sisters, after all.

"What have you learnt, sister?" asked Morgause, unsatisfied by the lack of depth in Alvarr's outside information.

"The court is in disarray! Arthur and Merlin have left to bring back Uscias, as you already know, but there are rumours that Cenred's old kingdom is under attack! No one knows who is responsible though, sister."

"Hmm." Morgause was yet again disappointed, but she could hardly blame Morgana; her sister was trying her best. It seemed even subtle disguise did not yield more information.

"Have we received any word from Alvarr?" Morgana's voice was brimming with hope, and Morgause smiled sadly at this. Perhaps this was the time to let her sister know.

"Yes, sister, he is fine." Morgana's smile was wide and genuine when she heard this.

"Morgana, there is something I must ask you, even though it may be quite sensitive. I may jump to presume as well... as a matter of fact, I intend to, for I know what I presume is true."

Morgana sat down, frowning "What do you mean?"

"I am well aware of your feelings for Alvarr. It is not quite difficult to spot, sister. I just want to let you know that I do not recommend-"

"I do not seek your recommendation!" Morgana stood up, her head held high. "Nor do I think you could anything to say on this matter!"

"He is a manipulative man, sister. He may appear to return your feelings but I very much doubt it-"

"How do you know that? What would you know of that kind of love anyw-"

"You would be very surprised, Morgana! I loved a man once so much that when I lost him it nearly killed me!"

Morgana's anger diminished, to be replaced by concern.

"Sister, I did not know of this! I am sorry-"

Her apology seemed to go unheeded as Morgause went to leave the room in a rush; clearly that outburst had not been intended. Morgana called after her.

"Is it Uscias?" She received a very blunt reply.

"You ask too many questions, sister!"

* * *

To Camelot, north, south, west and east had once been mere directions. However, depending which bearing you were from the city, your life now well and truly depended on it.

The North was filled with dark, dangerous forests, whose evergreen leaves seldom let in the light. The lands had always been the most unsettled of Camelot's borders, with the cold, harsh plains and steep mountains. They made life difficult for those who lived there, where the weather was harsh and the sentries were thinned. Bandits often attacked the furthest, most isolated villages, and after recent events most people were evacuating to villages closer to the city.

The West was mainly uninhabited, save for near the city and far to the borders, for in between lay the White Mountains, whose snow capped peaks pierced the clouds. The ominous, fear-injecting Isle of the Blessed kept all well at bay. The Valley of the Fallen Kings was just as terrifying, for an incredibly ancient forest shrouded that land, and very few who went in there came out in the same frame of mind. Recent talk had sent those near such places into great fear.

The South was very fertile land, at the foot of the mountains of Isgaard. Beyond that were lush rolling hills; considered the safest place in the Kingdom save the great city itself. Again, woodland was best kept away from, especially the Forest of Balor. These places seemed to attract magical power to them. This land had been barely shaken by the descended star.

The East was a land that was small in size, for the city was slightly eastwards of the centre of the kingdom. It mainly consisted of the Forest of Ascetir, before opening out to a small mountain range, which separated Camelot from the Kingdom with no name, for its old ruler was now dead. The druids who had survived the attack from Arthur and his knights all that time ago would be thanking the gods for his attack, especially after what they heard about the changes in forest. An unspeakable evil had settled in there, conveying sheer terror into even the boldest hearts... even Prince Arthur.

If Merlin had been here... woah, no way would Arthur have shown his fear! There would have been too much humiliation in that! Yet he was alone, so he had nothing to be ashamed of. Walking through a forest at night was scary enough, let alone the fact it was all covered in grey ash, which had settled and slowly solidified. All life had left this place, but Arthur always had a tingling on the back of his neck, like he was being watched. This was not a fleeting, occasional feeling; it was constant. Unexplainable noises with no logic attached caused his strong heart to miss a beat, even two beats at one point when a huge clump of ash fell from a branch, grey dust rising and choking the very air. It was _so_ close in here. The trees blended into their surroundings; this place was well and truly dead. Even through the layers of decay, Arthur could still see the dark star above him, its blackened, jagged peak now barely visible through the numerous thick branches, from which miniscule fragments of the towering monstrosity lay. Arthur was beginning to regret coming here alone now; few words could describe the terror coursing through his shivering blood. This place was capable of sending even the greatest into insanity. _Something_ was watching him!

Arthur swore that the forest had grown in size. His previous journeys through here had never been this long! Then again, time seemed to slow in the dark places of the world; this was now one of which. This was beyond ethereal, or mystic; this was _evil_. The term was overused in Albion, especially by his father when it came to magic, but Arthur was surrounded by his own thumping heartbeat, which pounded in his mind, like some kind of twisted countdown... to what? Fear nagged at his courage, tapped on his shoulders, and whispered in invisible shadows. Never before had such dread filled him. He had to get out of here, before the true evil of the land would swallow him up. Arthur blamed the star; it was all because of that damned star!

* * *

Merlin opened his eyes, nearly jolting and scrambling to his feet when memories flooded back. His head felt like lead, as did his entire body, but he soon shook it off. Where was he?

It was sunset, and the stars were brighter than usual. He looked out before him and saw flat fields of agriculture, with the odd scarecrow scattered here and there. This place did not look that familiar, and Merlin was struggling to remember how he had exactly got here.

So, he had finally faced who – or at least one of them – was behind this. Whether it was a person or not, its power had been majestic but raw, and Merlin had been lucky to get away with his life. If that was only one of them, how was he supposed to face more? This was bad, very, _very_ bad! Even with his new powers he'd barely overcome his new enemy; who knows what would have happened to him had he not touched The Stone of Inobscurity? He didn't want to think about it, but the truth hit Merlin in the face nonetheless; he would be dead.

His horse... well, Arthur's horse, was by his side, and Merlin was more than thankful to see it safe. It would mean a quicker journey to the Isle of the Blessed, and he knew saw it more of a sanctuary than a place to go with fear. If it did amplify his powers then perhaps he'd stand a better chance against this nameless hatred. The way it had moved... such speed, and strength, and malice. He'd never seen armour like that before, and it didn't come from Albion. Merlin didn't have to be a genius to work that out. Whatever they were, they were linked with the star. He knew it.

A strange trickle of heat suddenly hit Merlin on the back, stroking his coat softly and causing some mild discomfort. Grimacing, he turned round and... WOW!

Merlin nearly fell back to the ground again, his eyes wide in horror. Before him was a blazing inferno, burning the sky and bringing it back down to the earth. The flames licked at the stars, roaring at Merlin in fury as it fed on the air and scorched it dry. The forest he had entered mere minutes before would soon be no more than charred stumps and smoking craters, as an explosion ripped through the fire, sending fiery splinters in all directions for some distance. Merlin was safe from where he was, but the sooner he got away from all this, the better. Something told him his new enemy was far from dead.


	10. A Growing Shadow

Merlin had travelled for hours without a seconds rest now, as he constantly urged his steed to keep going, for he did not yet feel safe... he wouldn't feel safe till he reached the Isle of the Blessed. Of course, he had to return back to Camelot as well, unless he could convince this Uscias to magically transport them back. Being terrified of everything around him was sending Merlin over the edge.

Heavy, unyielding rain failed to bog down Merlin as his horse galloped with purpose. The White Mountains were to his right, and ten leagues now separated him from the battle scene, but it still did not feel like enough. He urged his horse on as if his enemy were right behind him, pulling out its mysterious weapon and firing again. If that was magic, then Merlin had never seen the likes of it before, or even anything remotely similar. Perhaps he was the first to have ever seen it.

It was dark already, despite the fact that the sun had not fully set. A layer of thick, grey clouds blocked out all light, and instead pounded the earth with water and lightning. Thunder boomed over Merlin's head as he jumped unexpectedly. Each noise and sight made him shift uneasily, and his own fears mocked him with cruel laughter. Shadows were everywhere, and his back felt as if it was being watched with intent and hate. Bright bolts of light seared across the charred air as rain instantly cooled it, some of the drops vaporising in mid-descent. The sound of thunder reminded Merlin of distant explosions, and in some cases a few were dangerously close.

He didn't know exactly what had happened when he had revealed the symbol on his hand, but clearly it had done something, else he would have been dead by now. If his suspicions were correct, his new magic had simultaneously hurled Merlin over a mile away from danger, while blowing up an entire forest. It was brilliant, nothing short of it, but utterly terrifying. Merlin doubted he could hide this from Arthur for much longer, and then would his friend be so willing to do things for him? Would he even remain a friend?

His mood did not lighten in the darkened atmosphere, when the Valley of Fallen Kings came into view. What was worst than going into an ancient forest? Going into it at night, while being pursued by an enemy he had failed to kill. An enemy he knew nothing about, and knew no way to defeat. The only advantage Merlin possessed was that he knew these lands fairly well; his enemy would not... hopefully. Gathering the soaked reins in his shivering, pale as death hands, Merlin grimaced through the heavy, dense raindrops and made his way towards salvation... or destruction.

* * *

Lancelot was in a strange mood, one that was positive and negative, light and dark, selfish and selfless, while feeling both on top of the world, and right below it. He had achieved many feats in the last few months, especially finally succeeding in his dream in becoming a Knight of Camelot. Yet even this was overshadowed by a loss which greatly outweighed his gain. His future still lay in uncertainty, as the King had was in no fit state to reinstate his full rule back on the Kingdom, but it was only a matter of time before he was ready. When he did, would Lancelot, along with the others, lose their prestigious titles, just because they were not of noble blood? The world could be full of such injustice sometimes.

Lancelot was on the way to the Northern gate, which now required at least one Knight there at all times, as well as several guards. Tension gripped the city firmly, and it could be sensed in each and every citizen. Even children seemed unsettled, their usual ignorance of all bad in the world cast aside. Women held their babies closer, and men kept a wary eye on their money pouches. The very air was saturated with the biting of nails, gnashing of teeth, and tapping of tables. Each look was glancing and swift, but meaningful and cynical. Friends no longer trusted one another, and families were breaking apart. Whoever was responsible for the missing people were masters in the art in of war. They need not attack the city, for they had already placed their psychological prowess within. The infrastructure of Camelot would soon reach breaking point.

The night was quiet but not completely depressing. Torches and braziers enlightened the way for Lancelot, whose bright red cape was momentarily magenta, and his warm brown eyes golden. His thoughts were barely troubled by thoughts of losing his knighthood, or succumbing to a new enemy. No, his mind and heart were focused on Guinevere. He had made a dire mistake in leaving Camelot that day. It had all gone downhill since then. Back then Arthur had seemed enamoured with Morgana, and Gwen was overlooked by most. He returned among them a year later, by a mixture of coincidence, rumour, and luck. Yet that was when the luck ran dry, for he soon discovered that Prince Arthur had feelings for Gwen, and there was no way he could interfere with the two. Now, it was as plain as blood on a white shirt; she loved Arthur. It hurt Lancelot, and probably always would, but he now had a chance to prove his loyalty to Arthur, while rediscovering his friendship with Gwen at the same time. He hoped with all his heart that Arthur would return, and there was no dark thought in him that considered otherwise. There was no shadow in Lancelot's heart, for there was no room for one.

The ground beneath his tough, polished boots was dry, and it crunched loudly under his weight. He had already visited Gwen and told her of his duty to protect her, but Arthur had already informed her. Lancelot now felt constantly awkward each time he was round her, but he couldn't help it. Love was a stubborn fighter, after all.

The Knight was passing the infamous tavern, named The Rising Sun, when the door crashed open and several men stumbled out, only a couple laughing. It seemed even the escape of drink could not truly mask anyone's fears, not even for a short while. Lancelot wasn't surprised when he noticed that one of the revellers was none other than Sir Gwaine.

"Ah, Lancelot, just the man I was looking for." Gwaine went to shake his hand, but instead aimed slightly further ahead than the knight actually was. Lancelot helped the tipsy knight to a nearby barrel, against a wall, and he placed his friend on there.

"You're drunk, again Gwaine," Lancelot said disapprovingly. "You do know you're on sentry duty for four hours tomorrow at the Northern Gate, or if you want me to be even more precise, in ten hours time!"

Gwaine waved a hand in the air, and in dismissal. "Oh, I'll be all right. I will have sobered up by then."

"I hope so, because we're treading a thin line as it is. When King Uther retains his full power-"

"It's not Uther I fight for," Gwaine mumbled loudly. "Arthur is the reason why I joined the Knights. It gives a little more purpose to my life, and I have more friends now. I have people I can trust and a warm bed to go to every night, albeit rather empty-"

"All right! I see your point! Just make sure you're up and ready for tomorrow, okay? Will you be alright getting back to the castle?"

Gwaine laughed, and pointed a finger at Lancelot... well, a bit to the left of him.

"I must confess, Lancelot, I'm quite drunk, but I am not _that_ drunk." With that he stumbled up the hill towards the citadel. Lancelot continued in the opposite direction and laughed heartily when he heard Gwaine singing loudly about a little green goblin. _That_ was nothing out of the ordinary.

* * *

Uther was taking a late meal with the Lady Abelena in the Throne Room. Her father had been Sir Ewan, who, along with Gorlois, had saved his life on countless occasions. He had been on the very of naming him a Lord when he fell at the assault of The Isle of the Blessed, nearly twenty years ago now. Abelena had only been a young child when her father had died, but she was headstrong and held her own. In that sense she reminded the King of Morgana, but the Lady before him was not weak in the mind, unlike his Ward, who had opened a door for the evil of magic to corrupt her and ultimately destroy his beloved Ward. It was an awkward, painful subject to bring up but Uther had decided it was best to speak about it instead of letting it fester within him.

"It must be hard," Abelena said softly, "To recover from such a betrayal."

"I don't think I will ever fully recover," Uther replied emptily, "but I must strengthen at least for my people. I have to think about them before myself during testing times such as these."

"Indeed," nodded Abelena, who raised her gilded cup in respect, "To Camelot."

Uther raised his cup, and toasted, but did not speak. His mind was filled with thoughts other than his ward, but the Lady Abelena pursued the subject.

"How did she find that out she was your daughter, sire?"

"I remember telling Gaius, you see. She must have somehow overheard me." There was no point in hiding anything now, Uther thought. He might as well be open about it, and hopefully he would recover with greater effect.

"Morgana has now sided with the evil of magic; Morgause corrupted her and she did not even see it. That is how powerful sorcery can be at times, and that is why I won't stop until magic runs away from my kingdom with its deceptive tail between its legs."

At that the doors were swung open, and Sir Leon stepped through, looking rather flustered. Uther, halfway through a sip of wine, looked across to the Knight unexpectedly.

"What is it?"

"Sire, as you know we've-," he stopped short when he noticed the Lady Abelena was also present. "There was a man running from the Darkling Woods. He claimed to have seen Alvarr."

Uther stood up at this, outraged.

"That scoundrel!" he hissed. "What is he doing in my Kingdom? Send out a patrol to meet him, and not to capture him. Kill him on sight."

Leon nodded, his cape swishing as he spun on his heel and left the hall with haste. Uther sat back down, with yet another trouble weighing down his already suffering mind. Abelena rested and assuring hand on the King's.

"I am certain you will overcome these dark times, your Majesty, as you have done so many times before."

Uther smiled wryly at these words. "Yes, I suppose you are right, but for now, I think it best you return to your chambers, and look over your cousin, as I have work to do."

* * *

Morgana was annoyed, although that was nothing unusual these days. She just felt frustrated at every turn, and it seemed there was no way around Uther at the moment, and the lack of Arthur and Merlin gave her some breathing space, but seeing Gwen somehow unsettled. Being back in Camelot again did not feel right; too many memories poured back into her mind and Morgana sometimes felt like she was being pulled back into the past. Uther had been wrong; it had been her choice to side with Morgause. She had been wrong to stop Tauren all those years ago.

Every time the witch saw a red banner or flag of Camelot, her blood boiled with fury. This was _her_ Kingdom, by blood right! She was a year older than Arthur, so she was directly first in line for the throne. This had been Morgause's plan, but Morgana shared little patience. She would have raised an army in Cenred's Kingdom, and assaulted Camelot in secret. She would have turned the people against each other, although now it would seem someone else was doing that in her stead, but probably not for her own good.

However, among the hatred, plots and images of vengeance, Morgana harboured a little concern for her sister, as she seemed to have upset her earlier in the evening. She had a lot more to learn about Morgause's life, and like actions, Morgana was impatient for information. Alvarr would be fine, that she was certain of. Her beloved sister, however, she was uncertain of. She was eager to learn more, but without appearing to be rude and upfront about it.

Her taller stature was the only aspect of her new body that Morgana had not quite accustomed to yet. She nearly tripped over her tall legs when she opened the door to her chambers. Morgause had returned, and was staring into a roaring fire with... surely not. Morgana had never seen her sister cry before, but it looked she had just missed her shed some tears. Morgause's emerald eyes were gleaming softly, and the younger witch crouched next to her, her own pale blue eyes brimming with concern and compassion.

"I was wrong to judge you like that, sister. I didn't... I didn't know that you..." Morgana's voice trailed away, hoping for a positive, upbeat reply.

"You need not worry, sister. It was my own, foolish fault that led me to the pain I received from such a meaningless endeavour. It was a long time ago, but sometimes I still struggle to put it to rest."

"Please, sister. Share it with me, so I can comfort you when you feel like your heart is weighted down with sorrow."

Morguse smiled widely at her sister, her dazzling white teeth showing "Oh, Morgana, I do wonder where I would be without you."

She looked back to the fire, sighing. "Would... would you understand me, if I said that I did not wish to reveal his identity?"

Morgana nodded, despite her suspicions of Uscias. "Yes, of course, Morgause, I understand completely."

"Very well," replied Morgause with a distant tone, as she shifted in her comfortable seat by the fire.

"It all started about eleven years ago, when I was about your age, if not a little younger than you are now. At that time I was not much different then what I am like now; focused on bringing down Camelot and toppling Uther from his throne."

"The Purge was still in its full flow, with hundreds dying by the week. Uther hired witchfinders from all around the land to root out magical encampments, and he often deceived magical users into revealing these secret places. Men, women and children were slaughtered without mercy, and without trials or the judgement of law. I once saw a row of children, some of them no older than five years of age, hung on a makeshift gallows. These years were the darkest of our time, and Uther's tyranny struck fear into all of those under his terrible whim. Of course, some said enough was enough, and fought back."

"I was among them, sister, even though I was of noble lineage, all of whom had sworn allegiance to Uther. We met his armies in the Darkling Woods, but we were outnumbered two to one. However, we funnelled his men onto the main roads, and cast curses down into them. Eventually there were only a few dozen of us left on each side, myself included. It went on for hours, and by then all of us could barely lift a sword, let alone swing it. The ground was saturated with the blood of those from both sides, and bodies covered the earth like a layer of autumn leaves."

"After what felt like days, I was the only remnant of the resistance army, and there were three men of Uther remaining from the one and a half thousand that had set out. Instead of fighting me, they fled, and at the time I did not know why. That was when I turned round and-"

The door crashed open, and the Knight named Sir Pericval stood at the doorway.

"My ladies, your presence is demanded by The King at this instant!"

The two looked at each other; Morgana clearly annoyed by the timing of the intrusion. It had looked like she had been about to learn something very enlightening.

* * *

The far Eastern borders of the Forest of Ascetir were relatively untouched by ash or dust, and as Arthur neared the edge of the terrible place the layer of grey ash thinned out and eventually only specks dotted the ground at certain parts. The high branches were barely touched, and the Prince felt his spirits lift with this. He made a mental vow to never return to this forest again, unless he was being pursued by something even worse. When Arthur did find Hunith, then he would either travel south or north of the forest. It would mean cutting across dangerously open country, and lengthening the journey, but he was willing to take those risks. He knew that if walked back in from where he had just left, something evil would be waiting for him back inside.

Ealdor was still a league or so away, so Arthur took a quick rest a few thousand paces away from the very edge of the ancient woodland. The land here was steep and sharp, with chunks regularly falling from the mountainside down onto the land below, which was littered with broken debris. He rested against a smooth, eroded boulder, and took a few bites of food. It was too dangerous to light a fire in hostile territory, so Arthur merely adjusted his eyes to the dark, using the positioning of the stars and moon to navigate, while also lighting his way. There were no clouds here, but to the far south-west he saw dark, dark clouds in great size, with small specks of light arcing downwards in jagged apparitions; lightning. Arthur knew Merlin was in there somewhere, so he hoped his manservant was somewhere undercover, else he'd catch a chill. He couldn't help but be concerned for his friend during this dark hour.

Arthur continued, taking no more respite or breaks. He knew Ealdor was just around the corner now, over this small, tiny bit of woodland, and then into the clearing where the tiny village lay. Not long now...

The wood was sparse and young, and no dark shadows were cast over here, so Arthur had no fear as he walked through with pace, but stealth, as he neared the village. That was when he gulped... quietly.

There were no lights. Of course, it was very late at night, so naturally it would be understandable if everyone was asleep... but there no lights _at all_. Not even one, as it was customary to set a circle of torches around the borders of hamlets, to keep foxes and wolves away from the cattle. Yet Ealdor was in pitch darkness, and Arthur stepped through the woodland onto the grass clearing, with only the moon and the stars to light his way. The ground underfoot was soft and dry, and the grass was not flattened or maimed with mud and marks. No one had set foot through here in the last few days. These signs were becoming more and more ominous, and there was a sense of dreadful inevitability about this place, like there was only one answer to all this, the answer that Arthur had prayed would not be the case. His prayers had not been heard.

Recent memories of Ederton swamped Arthur when he arrived at the edge of the supposedly abandoned settlement. That had been underneath the bright sunlight, with many other companions, and even that had been considerably frightful. Now, under the deceptive, suffocating cloak of night, completely alone, it was nothing short of raw fear. He glided with the stealth of a wraith as he cut across the well trodden path of the centre of the village, where a decaying well lay. Arthur looked down into it, a minute reflection of himself and the half-crescent moon gazing back up to his dismayed, negatively shining eyes. All the doors were shut to him, and no sound of snoring or undisturbed sleep reached his pricked ears. He was _alone_ here.

Arthur grimaced softly as he leaned against the grey limestone wall of the well. His heart-pounding journey through the soul-blackened Forest of Ascetir had been in outright vain. He now had to cross leagues of hostile territory, for even lands within his own Kingdom were no longer safe to tread through. When the Prince eventually did reach the safety of the Camelot, he had to look Merlin in the eye and tell him that he had been too late to save his mother. Arthur felt ashamed and dispirited; he had failed his friend during his greatest time of need. Nevertheless, he checked each house, and every empty home was like a blow to his heart, each worse than the one before. Every door was ajar, exposed to the elements, and Arthur left it that way, with a gleam of overwrought remorse in his eyes as walked southwards to the Ridge of Ascetir. On the way, Arthur kicked out at a rock in suppressed anger, releasing his emotions in one of the few ways he knew. Ealdor was dead.

* * *

The Valley of Fallen Kings was an incredibly old place, even by the standards of Albion. For as long as time could remember, it had been a place of sanctuary and enlightenment to those who were beyond _normal_. In short, it held as much significance to the world of magic as the Isle of the Blessed did. The valley itself was completely covered in ageless woodland, most of the trees older than Kilgharrah himself. Only magical creatures of light could attain access here, although because it was such an old spell, some more powerful mythical beasts broke through and resided here, many of them craving a taste for human flesh. He also shouldn't be too hasty in forgetting the rabble of bandits that had attacked him and Arthur. However, not even the thought of this discourage Merlin, because it was safer than the road behind... that was for certain.

The trees were gnarled and warped, their ancient branches meandering off into strange angles and directions. Thousands of autumn's worth of leaves littered the forest floor, with only a few moss-ridden rocks rising above the sea of dead flora. The pummelling rain did not yield or waver, however, and some drops managed to find gaps through the timeless canopy, and soon all around Merlin was soaked and dripping. The warlock himself was soon shivering, and he needed to find shelter soon, before he caught a chill. He was reminded of the Crystal Cave, but Merlin would rather brave the storm than return to that place. Taliesin had told him it was the birthplace of magic, but he didn't care right now. The crystals within had not just shown him a possible future; it had shown him an unlikely future which he had attempted to avoid, but inadvertently brought it into reality. It was no settlement of evil, but it still unsettled Merlin, and he wasn't willing to venture back into its impenetrably dark depths, unless his destiny utterly and devotedly depended upon it. The flashing images of a future of his own creation had played out before him within those deceptive crystals, and of his creation alone. Who knows what he may see if he were to go there for a second time?

This land was strange, to say the very least. The land within the valley just didn't look right, from certain visual perspectives. The land was rough and uneven, and the earth must have once risen up in defiance at one point, long, long ago. As Merlin went deeper into the forest, he was forced to tether his horse under an under hanging rock face; at least it would be dry here till he found a safe way through. Huge bodies of rock closed in on him, and strange, illegible carvings were dotted on these natural walls of solid limestone. The geography of the place was odd, almost illogical, but one day Merlin would learn of why it was like this, and it would be one _incredible_ discovery. But not yet, no... not yet.

That was when he reached a terribly familiar landmark; a path of old, flanked by two Kings of an ancient, too easily forgotten world. Their stone faces were riddled with algae, moss, and cracks born of cruel Mother Nature, and her terrible counterpart... time. It would seem that even the immortalised versions of these great men would not last forever. Everything that had a beginning always had an end... _always_.

As he neared, Merlin felt the full force of the magical barrier that forewarned of the nearby location of the crystal cave. The very structure of existence around this place was heightened and above those all around it. Yet this time its untamed brilliance did not make Merlin recoil; if anything it pulled him in willingly. He descended down the straight stone steps, whose curved centres gave out the appearance of being hewn at the dawn of time, and being pressed down by tens of thousands of feet. In the gaps between the crumbling, rotting stone lay carvings of unnamed beings, mutilated by rain, wind, and ice. The mini-cliff faces of rock diverging into Merlin were at least thirty feet in height, and the branches of trees were yet further above him. He and Arthur had been at this very spot before, and Merlin smiled in memory at the time when his friend had told him to trust him... that the bandits would not follow them into here. How wrong he had been...

A solitary leaf, overburdened by the forceful, crude raindrops, was torn from its fragile attachment and floated downwards, arcing at times, but generally travelling down towards Merlin. He watched it intently, aware of how much magic was trapped in this place. Several drops splashed on his face, droplets rising and inevitably falling all around him, as the dark green leaf slowed, and, eventually, stopped in level height with his eyes. It rotated, but fell no further. Merlin senses sharpened instinctively. He had not been responsible for that.

Noticing a small puddle nearby, he walked over to it, moving the weight of his body onto his leg, and spinning on his heel, hastily yet subtly viewing all angles around him momentarily. Merlin crouched, his kneecaps already dampened, and took some water to drink. It was cool and revitalising, and he had stopped shivering. His hair was drenched, and hair-trapped droplets joined the body of water before him, and he looked down to meet his own-

"WHAT the-" Merlin jumped up, wiping his hands on his shirt as they shook uncontrollably. He scrambled away from the puddle, as far as away as he could, before he could feel solid, comforting rock behind him. The rain still tapped and dripped, and his bids for air were rasping and desperate. He locked his sight on the water, unwilling to look away. What he had seen... it was wrong, so wrong... but it had been _him_.

He shakily stood back on his own two feet, and then noticed something above and beyond, back up the winding, time-defined path, something shining in the dark... two circular lights... two blue _lights_.

Merlin had never been so close to wetting himself in his entire life, but the motivation of fear was the greatest of them all, and he threw himself forwards and upwards, quickly turning sharply right down the other only other path that left the sheltered area. He felt the sound of silent, yet swift, long strides close in on him, and Merlin then ran full force, surpassing his old limit. Without looking back, he vaulted over small rocks, climbed and leaped from taller ones, and went around towering ones. Merlin, turned a corner littered with rotting, downed trees to his left, eyes automatically siding over to them as they threw themselves across the pathway when he had passed. His fingers appeared to thin out in width, and the tips of his fingers angled sharply downwards to meet his nails. The sound of flying, burning debris crackled and deafened all around it, and louder, more insistent footsteps kept on level terms with Merlin, neither attempting to close in, nor accidentally falling back. Sensing this, the warlock took an extra spring to his step and with the aid of his new powers, managed to scramble over the top of a fifteen foot high cliff face. This was where he bravely stood his ground against the enemy... at least for a moment, anyway.

"Who are you! What do you want!" Merlin asked with bubbling anger, suppressed by some cold understanding in his mind, which was not yet open to him. However, he received no answer from his dark opponent, whose shifting and overlapping armour then seemed to eerily, yet silently begin ripple at the edges, like a semi-circular ripple that kept repeating itself, emitting small amounts of reflective light. The smooth, roundness of the edges gave way, and it re-transformed itself. Fingertips and feet sharpened, and all round areas were straightened and refined. The chest was re-aligned and had a sharp edge at the front, which then angled sharply off at the sides. Even the symbols and images were straightened out. The already beaked helmet was given feather like features at the back, like shaped spikes facing backwards. Within seconds this all panned out before Merlin, and soon he was facing a foe that looked just as terrifying as the last, if not more so.

With a deep sense of knowing, Merlin spun away and leaped over the towering rock onto a smaller, more level surface. He'd barely reached the ground when he cast a quick glance back. It was now running at a terrifying pace, and it couldn't be much longer before it eventually caught up with Merlin! Clearly the change in armour had affected its speed.

Merlin's heart had gone beyond pounding in his ears; it was now thumping within his very mind, and the earthy scent of the damp earth, mixed with the stench of his own fear filled his nose. Every move he made was sickeningly predicted and copied by his shadowy enemy. Ten feet became five, and Merlin could feel the cold metallic hand groping out towards his back, brushing his coat with its incredibly sharp fingertips. He could feel the merciless eyes piercing into the back of his head, and what was like slow, steady breathing emerge from the helmet. This made Merlin jolt in an extra dosage of terror, and he slipped on a green, damp stone, falling down into another path like the one he had gone through earlier. His head hit one of the steps with force, and the world turned to pitch darkness.


End file.
